Forces of Evolution
by sigmalied
Summary: Even after the defeat of the Reapers, the forces of evolution continue to manifest in all parameters of normal life in subtle yet magnificent ways; from the cooperation of organisms in their perpetual quest to survive, to the most basic laws of heredity and reproductive instincts. Epilogue to the trilogy, FemShep/Liara pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This epilogue to the Mass Effect trilogy features a thematic approach to every chapter; all themes being encompassed by a uniting, primary theme of the evolutionary process. Currently rated M for gore and sexual content.

FemShep/Liara pairing will be central focus. Default Shepard is used, but her appearance and first name will be rarely if at all mentioned.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Adaptive Plasticity**

**:::**

_"According to Darwin's Origin of Species, it is not the most intellectual of the species that survives; it is not the strongest that survives; but the species that survives is the one that is able best to adapt and adjust to the changing environment in which it finds itself."_

_- Dr Leon C. Megginson, 1963_

**:::**

* * *

The air was clean, fresh; free of dust and smoke. Though the horizons of all directions were still tainted with browns and greys, a sight drawn upward yielded endless blue, ears heard the songs of birds, and the nose found the scents of living trees and grass whose cells radiated with life. But eyelids were dark and heavy, with their owner in a daze, staring off blankly into the pleasing view of green. There was a family sitting beneath the shade of a tree on the other side of a decorated dirt path; a mother, father, and a little boy, all sitting in a small triangle and playing with little toy figurines and ships. The parents bore patched-up injuries. The mother had a special medical sleeve for treating burns, and the father's right forearm was a slightly different hue than the rest, and had a different texture. It was a functional, temporary prosthetic, most likely a cheap and simple model due to the shortages the Alliance was inevitably suffering.

Her eyes were fixed on them for an indeterminable amount of time. Her fingers gently fidgeted in her lap as a soft breeze ruffled through strands of hair, tossing them in front of her forehead before they settled back into place. She became aware of her own breathing, and her own heartbeat.

**:::**

_A great silence buried the landscape beneath its bleak and heavy weight. The area, once filled with bustling life and movement, had been reduced to a ghastly vista reminiscent of a world during its stage of early primordial chaos. It was utterly unrecognizable as the remains of an advanced society, and much too lonely - far too lonely and desolate – to confidently suggest that anyone else even existed within its boundaries at all. Far away from the somber ruins, people were stirring, repairing, reuniting. But not here; this place, this wasteland, was to be restored to its former glory after functioning regions of the world had been saved. There was no rescuing it, no reviving it. If the people wanted to return here, they would have to build anew. There was no salvage; nothing of consequence to use, and no reason to waste their efforts upon the sunken ship that was London, at least until they were comfortable enough in resources to do so. The destitute field of rubble and death stretched on for miles, hundreds of former buildings completely leveled, and the fortunate ones only surviving in the shape of hollow, eerie skeletons. Organics had made it the very center of their universe for such a short yet heavy amount of time. All sentient eyes had been looking at this place mere hours ago; the center of their mentally-conscious gravity. There had been too many eyes. Red stares that burned the air and little frightened orbs with miniature suns in them. They had torn this place apart. _

_Eyelids briefly trembled with a trace of life. _

_Their gravity had crushed this place, suffocated it. The time here had been full of pain, confusion, and death. Too many eyes full of tears and debilitating terror, too many screams and broken skulls. Overwhelmed little bodies had crumpled to dust beneath the flashes of red light and the deep hum, the ancient universal sound of death heard by forgotten peoples throughout conceivable history. The nightmare had seemed to warp time. Staggering with blurry vision and fading breaths, the organics had suddenly become aware of their existence to a heightened degree. They had been here, in this very spot, in this very moment, for all the ages of existence. This very battle had been raging for eons, far longer than that brief meeting with the Reapers. They had always been this way, teetering on the edge of extinction since the very birth of each of their respective species with only a few pounds of force separating their lives from their bodies forever. _

_Something moved within the debris; something relatively small and delicate against the colossal mountains of rubble, quickly drawing in a single, shallow gasp. Eyes flickered, darting, taking in the sight of a shrouded, sunless sky churning with foul clouds. The pain came immediately and did not cease. Heavy smoke and dust burned in her lungs; she gasped anew, struggling to breathe against the agony that racked her chest with every slightest movement. Panic was flooding her mind like a thundering poison, and for the long duration of a few minutes, her brain was electrified with a delirious barrage of incoherent and primitive thoughts and feelings mainly comprised of fear and complete disorientation. The storm of thoughts amplified in severity when she discovered that she could not move, let alone feel any part of her legs, arms, and face. She began to hyperventilate, eyes rapidly moving about in silent desperation. Horror seized her heart, overwhelming her with the sights of tendrils of smoke rising into the sky like tragic ghosts, the flickering of fires in the distance, and the dark, chilling silhouettes of devastated buildings rising up on all sides and enclosing her in a personal, forsaken circle of hell. Waves of distress pulled her under, and she lost consciousness once again._

**:::**

She had gradually leaned forward during the vivid recollection, and was now sitting in a slouch with her hands tightly folded together. Her breathing had grown shallow and faster, and her irises were clouded with a darkness that trembled with the minute shifting in her gaze while her mind whirled within her skull.

"Shepard?"

"What?" she responded to the sound of her name, but made no movements that could indicate the allowance of her full attention.

"Shepard. Look at me."

"_What?" _She abruptly turned her head to see the asari sitting next to her on the bench watching her with wary blue eyes.

Liara brought the datapad she held down to her lap. "Are you all right?"

Shepard gave the family a final glance. "…I don't feel well," she admitted, withdrawing from the question. "I… I think it's the leg," she lied. "The leg… it doesn't feel right. I think some of the nerves aren't lined up right or something. Maybe I just need to get used to it." She gestured to the replacement limb attached to her right leg, just above her knee where her live flesh and bone ended. This one, as opposed to what the man across the path had, perfectly matched her skin and was so discreet that at first glance one could not tell that it was synthetic. She rubbed the knee. Her brain confirmed its connection to the limb, but something wasn't right. The touch felt wrong; though she felt the pressure of her fingers perfectly, the finger textures were terribly muted.

It was the first day that Shepard had been released from the hospital. Though Liara had visited while she was bedridden and on drugs that made the room's lights bloom brighter and sounds hum longer in her ears, the asari was only able to dedicate sporadic visits of only a few hours each. Shepard remembered lying in the bed, too weak to move and the effects of painkillers tugging at the corners of her mouth into a dreamy smile as Liara sat down beside her, kissed her head, held their battered hands together, and pulled her into gentle, blissful melds that were filled with nothing but warmth, comfort, and love. Other visitors had come and gone. She particularly remembered Garrus, whose face made her burst into a heavily-medicated sob of joy. The turian had laughed at her, though she was convinced that he had held a similar cry of celebrated reunion behind his mandibles. Shepard also remembered being crushed in someone's arms, but she couldn't recall whose. Perhaps they were Wrex's, judging by the faint memory of a nurse panicking over the din of loudly-beeping monitors.

"It'll be all right, though," Shepard continued. "I'll have it for a few months, so I'll get used to it soon."

The asari observed her for a long moment. Shepard shrank under her knowing scrutiny, but Liara seemed to let it go, as she didn't press Shepard any further to reveal what was truly causing her anxiety. She looked away, acutely aware that Liara could plainly see the fermenting thoughts in her eyes.

**:::**

_Startling awake once more, she found that her environment had not changed. The sun was still away and it was impossible to tell how long her eyes had been closed. When the agony returned, she felt the very real possibility of fainting again, but fought against it, determined to reach a state in which she could assess her situation and begin to remember all the events that had recently come to pass. Her paralysis remained. She willed her arms to move, but they refused, and she found that she lacked all sensation. If she had been missing every limb on her body, she would not have been aware. A bit of blood and spit was expelled from her cracked lips when her breathing hitched into a sudden cough; the droplets ran down the corners of her mouth, and against the curve of her jaw. An involuntary and hoarse sound of strain escaped her throat. Still trapped in a haze of delirious thought, Commander Shepard's vocalization increased in sound until it became a cry; a pitiful, mournful sound broken by her parched throat. Her world was lit by pain not in only her skin, but deep in her organs and very bones. She initially cursed at her existence. Through the physical torment and the lurid, damned landscape, she envied the endless void of her dreams. She solemnly closed her eyes again, praying for any respite, for her conscious self to be transported to anywhere else in the universe. _

_The memories came in a rush. All the horror, the power, and the loss. She remembered everything at once; all those feet of soldiers pounding the ground, gunfire singing through the air, screams and shouts, and the faces of her team. The life in their eyes, their unwavering trust in their commander that they had developed over months and even years of camaraderie. She remembered charging, feeling the sting of rounds beginning to pierce her shields and armor. She had felt as if submerged in dark waters, all movements slowed by adrenaline and fear. People saying her name. _

_Shepard, Shepard, Shepard…_

_Her fingers curled ever so slightly. Where were they? Were they okay? Was anyone okay at all? She reeled, opening her eyes widely once again. What if she had failed? What if she was actually dead, along with everyone else, and was currently doomed to a sphere of purgatory, perhaps in payment for all the lives she had ended? But what about Thane's prayer for her? Was it not enough? Where was the endless sea, the dissipation of self-awareness that would melt into the gentle tides of a peaceful rest? _

_She took a deep breath. "Calm down… You're not thinking straight. You probably hit your damned head, so stop thinking crazed things. You need to stay calm. You're not dead. You're not dead. But how? Why am I alive? How…?"_

_Her eyes swam with wonder. _

_"I'm… I'm alive. I have to get up. I have to see if I was successful; I need to see if everyone's okay… If anyone is okay… Anyone at all._"

_She lurched upward, crying out at the burst of pain it caused her with spotted vision and ringing ears. Strands of stray hair were plastered to her forehead by dry blood, dirt, and sweat; and overwhelmed tears borne from an intense mixture of her reaction to her wounds and a wall of pure determination welled in her eyes, but she did not let them escape. Her body curled into an upright position where she swayed with weariness as the world spun around her. When Shepard regained her sight, her entire body went deathly cold. The state of her right leg was to be described as something from her nightmares; mangled, bent in unnatural places, and bloated, infected flesh peeking out of the spaces where her armor had been cracked and shattered. Shaky hands flew to the limb. She touched the flesh that was spotted with sickly purple and greens that became alarming hues of gray, but felt nothing. She activated her hardsuit's computer to run a diagnostic, but was met by an error message that announced that most functions were offline, including her shields. Fortunately, the computer was able to give her information regarding her injures. When the grim news reached her ears, a wave of nausea washed over her body. The leg was putrefying, and the operational mechanisms in both her armor and body were working frantically to keep the rest of her alive. _

"_This is Commander Shepard," she spoke into her helmet's communication system, "I'm requesting help; pick-up, medical aid. Is anyone out there? Does anyone read me?" Her reply was static. She tried tapping to every frequency she could think of, sending her distress signal, but each time she was met with the same devastating silence. _

_Her gaze lifted to the sky, watching the ghoulish atmosphere languidly swirling above. There was no escaping the action that she would have to take if she was to survive. With much effort and a pained wince, she shifted her position to choose her pistol from her back. She fired a shot to her right to check its functionality before pressing the end of the barrel against an exposed stretch of skin on her mid-thigh. For a while she did nothing, holding the gun with both hands and making small adjustments to her aim. Mordin's voice filled her thoughts._

"Evolution, a marvelous thing. Powerful force that drives organisms to survive beyond expected capacity."

_How would the salarian have executed this delicate procedure? What ammunition would he have used, at least? Shepard changed the cryo to incendiary with uncertainty, and after a few long moments, changed it back. Her eyes were wide and wild. _

"Limb must be removed, no other option. Survival is essential. Sacrificing part of the body for the whole gives the organism a chance to adapt and ultimately persist."

_She set the pistol down and brought her omni-tool's blade out instead, hovering over the flesh while continuing to pretend that Mordin was by her side and advising her._

"Need to ensure that the patient won't bleed to death. Incendiary ammunition preferred route. Wound carbonizes instantly."

_Shepard retrieved her pistol once more, switching over to incendiary. "I am a soldier", she said to herself. "I am Commander Shepard. I have been to places and seen things that I would never wish upon my worst enemies. This is nothing. This is absolutely nothing at all." She shut her eyes tightly, drawing in slow, deep breaths. "Do it. Do it. Do it now. You'll die for certain if you don't. You've come this far, you've survived the Reapers, and you're not going to die now. Do it."_

_She pulled the trigger, lighting up the dreary air with a bright flash of orange-yellow and a burst of scorching heat. The igneous bolt exploded in her leg, instantly sending roasting flesh curling up into withering, blackened strips. A scream was strangled out of her throat and the weapon sipped out from her fingers, clattering onto the ground as her body convulsed in agony. Her fingers curled, palms scraping involuntarily across dirt and debris, and she shook in the grip of a cold sweat; shuddering, sobbing, and twisting about in utter turmoil. She dragged her body backwards, desperate to free herself from the blighted limb. Bile was burning in her throat through the incessant surges in her stomach and head, and when she had succeeded in moving her body a few feet, she slipped out of consciousness, and regained it a few seconds later to the sight of the disfigured remainder of her leg still attached to the rest of her thigh by a piece of splintered, scorched bone and bleeding flesh clinging to its underside. _

_Shepard let out a cry, chest heaving before turning to her side where she emptied her stomach of any fluids that still remained in its starved contents. Her fingers clambered over the ground for her pistol. When she found it, she fired another round into her leg without a second thought, this time completely through. While the roasting muscles sealed over crudely, the scent of her own cooking flesh filled her nose before she blacked out. Her weak form hit the ground with a resounding thud._

**:::**

She flinched almost violently when she felt the hand on her arm. Liara was watching her with a sophisticated blend of concern and awareness; Shepard met her eyes and prepared to explain herself.

"Liara, I'll be all right," she said softly. Her voice was almost comatose in nature, and certainly lacking in assurance.

"I know," came the disbelieving reply. The expression in Liara's knowledgeable eyes indicated that she was most likely not agreeing with her statement; rather, she was telling her that she was aware of something else entirely.

"I'm just sort of shaken up still."

"I know, Shepard," she said soothingly. "We're all a bit shaken up, but I understand that you've probably taken the hardest hits." Liara gently ran her fingertips against the back of her hand. "It's all right. We have time to sort ourselves out now, and it's only fair that you be allowed as much as you need."

Shepard nodded, letting out a long breath. She shook her head temperately while looking at the blades of grass before her. "It won't take long," she looked over at her. "I just need to clear my head. Give me a few days and I'll be just fine, I promise."

"I can't stay here very long, Shepard, so I hope that will be true. I need to leave tomorrow, to go help with the mass relays. The Reapers may be gone, but we're still in the middle of a crisis. I admit that I am not a physicist, but the height of Prothean technology yielded some devices and schematics that greatly resemble the relays, and I'm certain that I can be of help. Also, if you add a few of the discoveries made while engineering the Crucible, I think we can get the relays up and running even before you get your new leg," she smiled at Shepard, who was beginning to relax. "That is, if we work intensively over the next few weeks. An assembly of all the greatest minds within the next few star systems is vital. I'm actually reading up on some scientists and engineers right now, if you were wondering. Unfortunately, I'm finding that a lot of them perished during the invasion. This may be a lot more difficult than I initially estimated. But we'll get it done, I'm sure. I'm sorry Shepard. That means I won't be around to take care of you and pat you on the back in the meantime." She gave her a jocund smirk.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "The insinuation being that I depend on you."

"Yes. You depend on me greatly, whether you've accepted that truth or not."

The commander sat defeated beneath the assertive nature of her words spoken with irrefutable certainty. Liara had said them with such finality, as if any argument against them would be instantly perceived as completely inadequate. Her thoughts lingered on this and on Liara's recent disposition in general, which had been constantly evolving into something that transcended even her power as the Shadow Broker and part of the team that essentially saved the galaxy. While everyone seemed to be catching their breath, trying to heal their wounds, Liara was still running forward with long strides, immediately busying herself with mountains of tasks the very moment she escaped the warzone. It was incredibly strong of her, and humbling to see.

"You change often for an asari, Liara," Shepard concluded at length, both admiration and vexation leaking from her lips in a strange mix.

"Well, I need to," Liara replied with simplicity. "I identify what is needed from me and I attend to it. And, well, I now feel a little less guilty leaving you for longer amounts of time because you don't need me like you used to."

Shepard's good humor took a sudden dive. Perhaps she felt that her honor or strength was being threatened, or perhaps she felt that Liara was now unnecessarily rubbing it in to an extent that made Shepard wonder if she intended to provoke a reaction. Regardless, she didn't feel like lying down to her words so easily. _Am I honestly that insecure about my own capabilities?_ Shepard's brow furrowed as the question crossed her mind. She then changed the wording of the thought to better suit a query. "You really think I was that dependent on you?"

"Oh, Shepard, _please_. You were absolutely_ unraveling_. I don't think I have to remind you of the circumstances that I base my conclusion on. The fact was that we _needed_ you. We all knew that if this war was going to be won, it was going to be by your hands. I needed you, and you needed me and everyone else just as much. So I put down my monitors for a period of time every day to make sure that you succeeded. I was constantly watching you, appearing when you were troubled in hopes that I could alleviate some of your burden, even when I had my own set of problems. At any cost, we needed to have you up in front, leading this war, in the best condition that you could possibly have."

She grew quiet with a grim expression that darkened her features. Great waves of doubt were eroding the edges of her heart, and she couldn't understand why they were crumbling with such ease. "So, what, was I just a tool? A weapon you needed to use against the Reapers? So what was lovemaking, a strategic way of boosting my morale before dangerous missions?" Shepard immediately regretted saying her last sentence, and was not even sure if she truly bore any insecurity of that sort. The idea still chilled her, however.

"I had a feeling you would go there," Liara sighed. "You misunderstood me. I really did love you, and I still do. Don't you dare doubt that. I just perhaps love the galaxy more than your personal comfort after the matter, which we're obviously dealing with right now. If I had to sacrifice my own present convenience and your present pride to have gotten you off your feet, I'd do it. I _did_ do it. And I would do it again."

"It feels almost like lying, to be honest."

"I wasn't lying. I never lied. I meant every single thing I said, even though some of it seemed to be a little sacrificial of my ego to you and to others. It's no secret that some of my species is known for great vanity, but humans are just as well known to have tremendous egos. Don't give me that look, let me finish. I try not to have a large ego myself. It becomes a problem when you are faced with necessary duties that may make you do things that your ego doesn't agree with. My job was to help get us to the battlefield prepared, to help provide the Crucible, and to get Commander Shepard ready for whatever she needed to do, at any cost. So I did what needed to be done. People may think lowly or weak of my character for genuinely realizing the gravity of the task presented to me, and that's perfectly fine. But you know, in the end, I see that they still have the ability to perceive me in any way at all, and so I suppose my job is done."

Any rebuttal that Shepard might have had forming in her head was silenced by the end of Liara's elaboration. Shepard was not unintelligent. She knew that she possessed a skilled and busy wit, but it always seemed to pale a few shades whenever compared to the machinations of Dr. T'Soni's adept mind. Her intellect was certainly one of the reasons why she had been attracted to her in the first place, after all; there was always something to be learned, something to be said, something to be asked, or ideas that she hadn't heard before, whether their roots lied in cultural differences or in the contrast of their individual personalities. They sat beside one another in silence for a few minutes before Shepard asked the hushed question of, "What are you going to be tomorrow, Liara?"

She smiled reticently, feeling that the ill mood had passed into something calmer, with more relief. "Whatever the galaxy requires of me. And that happens to be a scientist, which I'm very good at. And what will you be, Shepard?"

"Just a veteran, I suppose. My job is pretty much done, after all. But maybe not. Maybe… maybe I can volunteer at the hospital. Make myself useful."

"I bet the patients would love to see you there," Liara extended a hand to affectionately tuck a loose strand of hair behind Shepard's ear. "Your presence might help recoveries, actually. Positivity is an excellent healer."

Shepard's eyes had subtly brightened at Liara, and she was drawn in by some electromagnetic instinct that was probably only perpetuated by the touch of an asari with whom one had previously bonded with. She kissed her, only pulling away so that she could press their foreheads together. Strands of hair bent between the contact, casting down and intercepting the exchange of gazes.

**:::**

_She was weightless. The drone of an engine comforted her fading conscience._

"_This is Lieutenant Commander Williams. We've got Shepard. Which hospital is nearest to our location? All right. Let's go! Get Shepard some medical attention! No, I don't know how the hell she got here! Just – someone help me get her armor off. Fuck, what did she do to her leg?"_

_Shepard drifted in and out of awareness, only registering brief intervals of her environment. She heard their voices, their fretting over her. She heard Ashley radioing multiple people and using familiar names. _

"_This woman is absolutely immortal," Ashley said at one point, nearly sounded offended at the Commander's ability to survive. Around her, people in the shuttle were talking about Akuze, Shepard's temporary two-year death, and the events at hand with great wonder; if any moment in fathomable history could properly represent the sheer resilience of organic life, it was this very one._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **This is the new version of the second chapter. Sorry about that. It contains identical sections salvaged from the last version, but it also contains many new parts. I'm much happier with it. I think it's a bit more concise and loyal to the theme.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Symbiosis**

**:::**

"_It is interesting to contemplate a tangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent upon each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us."_

_- Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species, November 1859_

**:::**

* * *

Shepard gazed pensively at the pale line that marked the end of her right leg and the beginning of the synthetic one. Water was gliding down its length in glistening streams, and though she felt its warmth, she could not feel the slight tickle it brought to the rest of her flesh. She continued to wash her hair in silence.

The day had been an eventful one. She had woken up alone in the apartment that she had been given as a gift from the Alliance, since she 'had no available place of residency whose expenses properly reflected her deeds'. She had been reluctant to accept the abode, and made sure to offer some of its space to any of her former crew who needed somewhere to stay. Though the prospect of having a luxurious home all to herself was extremely appealing, she did not deny the disheartening pang that twitched in her chest when no one took her up on her offer. Everyone was off answering their calls to further duty, but Shepard remained in a protective stasis as ordered by her doctor and superiors. It was like being crystallized and made into a tall statue standing proudly above all peoples that must remain free of further wear and blemish. It made her sick. She had been absolutely restless. And so on that morning, while staring at the pristine white ceiling, the chirp of her private terminal had her eagerly rolling out of bed in a disheveled mess. Amongst the great multitude of messages blinking for her attention, one stood out with enough prevalence to rush her (late) morning routine and to make a call to a very dear friend.

**:::**

_The pair stepped up onto the platform, searching for the correct area to await their tram in. Peoples of various species were busying about, all organizing into tidy lines of traffic that wove through and carried them to their destinations. A speaker crackled to life, announcing times and destinations to complement the large screen overhead that displayed the very same information; when it finished, an advertisement for the newest model of language translators echoed about the silvery interior of the station. Shepard bumped shoulders with other commuters multiple times while cutting a path through the crowds. Many heads did a double-take when she passed, and there were utterings of her name, but she was otherwise undisturbed by the time she made it to the edge of the platform with her companion safely in tow._

"_This planet is too damn crowded," Garrus grumbled from beside her, looking around with great discomfort. "Well, in these circumstances it is somewhat expected, but that doesn't make me any happier."_

_Shepard smirked in dry amusement while folding her arms in front of her chest. "A lot of ships and their crews are still stranded here, Garrus, and a lot of public transportation was wiped out. That makes for a very inconvenient mix. We'll have to deal with it for a while."_

"_Exactly my thoughts, but my personal objection is more along the lines of 'where is everyone going?' and 'do they really need to be going there in the first place'?" he placed a hand on the shoulder of a salarian to guide him out of the way as he tried to hurriedly shuffle between Garrus and Shepard. "I suppose you could ask us those same questions, though."_

_As the sleek form of the tram came rushing into the station with a great whoosh of sound, Shepard shrugged at him with a slight smile. The doors hissed open, and they, along with the crowd of passengers, piled into the vessel's leisurely and immaculate interior. There were many large windows that bathed each individual car with clean, natural light, which made the journey comfortable and calm, much like the atmosphere of one's porch or the sitting room of an expensive home. They swiftly chose their seats. Garrus relaxed while settling in, reclining back in the comfortable bench beside his comrade and crossed a leg over his knee. _

"_So where are we headed to?" he asked with his usual brand of nonchalant repose. "Going to cause some unrest on the streets of Earth? You know, I've never had the chance to properly make fun of this planet before, Shepard. Please tell me that you've got something good for us to do."_

"_First of all," Shepard began while bringing up her omni-tool's interface. The engines droned back to life and the tram began to pick up speed. "We're going to France. The damage it suffered was hit and miss, depending on the region. Paris was hit really hard, but that's where we're headed. Apparently the periphery is relatively intact in some spots, and it's pretty lively there." She glanced out the window to her left, watching as the landscape became a smear of color. Flickers of green, grey, and beige sped past in a blur. _

**:::**

Shepard stepped out of the shower, pulling a towel off of a metal rack and used it to roughly dry her hair. She brought it to her face, smelling the shampoo in its material, and proceeded to dry the remainder of her body before pulling on loose articles of clothing that she would eventually go to bed in. It vaguely occurred to her that she had not eaten in hours as she left the bathroom. After checking her omni-tool for any new messages, she meandered over the to the kitchen area.

It was well past midnight. She spent several long moments in front of the refrigerator, wondering if eating right before turning in for the night would facilitate strange and unwanted dreams.

_Fuck it_, she thought, retrieving the remainder of a slice of cantaloupe that she had failed to finish earlier that day. She took a seat at the island, spoon in hand, and placidly admired the polished marble counters while eating her tiny dinner. A stray drop of water from a lock of hair fell onto the marble, and she paused. She could hear the faint hum in the lights that illuminated the room. It was all too quiet. Anyone's company would have put her in a happier mood. She was completely accustomed to being confined to a ship wherein resided all sorts of people from all sorts of places. There was always someone awake at any given hour, and there were countless excuses for conversation, especially since she was their commander. Though she had not exchanged as many words with him as some of her crew, Garrus was one of her closest friends. He had been present for such a large portion of missions that developing a close bond was inevitable.

Garrus had never been one to openly express his attachments to other people, and certainly not if these attachments were strong. From their first meeting on the Citadel on the day that Shepard became a Spectre, she and Garrus had been nearly inseparable as inspired by their competition, banter, and hatred for common enemies. There was always a contest between them; who could handle a rifle the best, who fought with the most 'style', among countless topics that would have been perceived as pointless if not for their almost-siblinghood. And this all occurred within a strange silence between them; the wordless acknowledgement that they were of great importance and a delight to one another without having to compromise their rivalry through words of propensity. There were times when she'd reflect on brief memories of them walking side by side, rifles hoisted over their shoulders while discussing battle strategy as gunfire crackled in the distance, and she would suddenly be completely unable to even fathom a time when humans and turians were bitter enemies. A world where they would have been shooting at each other was beyond eerie; it was frightening and confusing.

Beyond simply the harmonious and somewhat unexpected friendship between the two lied the oddity of their entire force; especially during their opposition of the Collectors. "_Bunch of psychopaths running around,"_ as Tali had once eloquently said to Shepard in a volume that was just barely audible. But somehow, they had all been able to cooperate with one another and achieve their goal despite their great diversity of desires and personal codes. It hadn't been easy, as there were numerous incidents that she had to douse with calm words and charismatic praise to all parties, but their unity had seen them through in the end.

_No one gets left behind._

Shepard had said this over and over with Virmire's pain still raging in her heart.

As her thoughts ruled her blank stare cast down at the marble counter, she realized that she was no longer hungry.

**:::**

_She lowered her omni-tool between them and adjusted the volume on an audio message so that it was likely only they would hear the message over the chattering in the tram._

"_Shepard," the recording's familiar voice began, "I heard that you came out of all this in only a few pieces, and that they've put you back together yet again. Come see me; I want to have a little chat with you, to discuss… business, if you will. Here's the location. Do not make me wait." A map projected up from the device, showing their current location in relation to the point of interest. The little blue dot that represented Shepard was crawling along an orange line that represented the tram's route. They were already crossing over the English Channel; beautiful deep blue hues of the glittering ocean were rushing by. _

"_What's Aria T'Loak doing on Earth?" Garrus inquired. "You would think that she'd still be stranded over on Omega."_

"_I suppose we'll find that out," Shepard replied, closing the message's window. "I'm not keen on going because she asked me to. We don't have that sort of buddy system. I'm mostly just worried about what the impact of her presence will be, or what sort of trouble she could be causing. So, in a sense, we're investigating. Doing some Spectre work, let's call it."_

"_And you brought me along just in case we need to crack some skulls, right?"_

"_Not what I originally intended. Come on Garrus, I wouldn't make you my bodyguard. You need to stay far away with your rifle as usual so no one can break you in half." she grinned._

_He laughed, shaking his head with a sudden bemusement. "This is good, Shepard," Garrus decidedly said with a pleasant mirth in his voice. "These are good times. Real good. I know we're not completely out of the fire yet, but we will be soon. It's quite an excellent time to be alive."_

_Shepard's gaze rested on the back of the seat in front of her. As Garrus closed his eyes and reveled in the moment, the cogs in her mind were beginning to turn. It was indeed a good time to be alive, but so many would not have that privilege. All too quickly, she felt herself beginning to descend into that dark valley of her memory that was home to all the ghosts of people whom she was not able to save. She felt them reaching up to her with withered hands, clawing their way into her heart. A wave of illness infected her chest. Why was it, that she had been given so many more lives than anyone else? Why was it, that while everyone and everything around her fell apart and burned to the ground, she always emerged from the wreckage? A tiny irrational voice in her brain was screaming about a superstition wherein she only kept living because many people died, as if their departed souls were to be absorbed into a pedestal for her to stand on. It wasn't true in the least bit, but Shepard was haunted by them all. She had postponed her demise too many times now. Why was it, that while children had died right before her eyes, Shepard continued to exist on stolen time?_

**:::**

Shepard sat down on the edge of her bed in the darkness of the room, facing the large square window so that the lights of the city glowed on her face. She remained there deep in thought, wondering if Liara was asleep some billions of kilometers away. She probably was, and it would not be polite to call in only to awaken her from well-deserved rest. It could wait until morning. She would try to catch her during the window of time between awakening and returning to work.

She lied down gently, eyes still directed to the sight beyond the window while pulling the thin sheets over her settling form. A sudden restlessness made itself present in her mind. It seemed to originate from the fact that so many of her friends were out helping rebuilding, and yet here she was, lying in bed with nothing to do like some idolized celebrity. The notion frustrated her. Everyone had insisted that Shepard take plenty of time to recuperate, but she was feeling that her allotted time had long expired. She was completely ready to rejoin them. She could jump into a shuttle and help look for stranded survivors, help clear out some rubble to make way for new cities, or deliver food and necessities to refugees with nothing. She could be using this damned apartment to house them, she realized. While burying her face into the pillow in discontent, she vowed to do at least one of these things even if someone tried to stop her. She wasn't going to just sit on some throne and pretend to be satisfied with her accomplishments; there was simply so much more to do. Her heartbeat was climbing even though her body remained motionless.

Liara certainly would have been more proud of her if she kept going anyway. Shepard's thoughts kept returning to her; the room was still dreadfully vacant. She extended an arm over to the empty space beside her, keeping her other one curled beneath her chest, and peered through the dim light from the city at her back while studying her fingers with half-lidded eyes. A deep and drowsy yearning for Liara's company ached in her bones. Vividly, she recalled the first time they had spent a night together, and with a unique mix of embarrassment and fondness, remembered that the sight of Liara's eyes swirling with a lurid darkness had initially alarmed her. Her irises had paled to ghostly rings, as if drained of their pigmentation in order to dye the whites of her eyes black, and they gleamed in the pale light like the daunting voids between stars. Though Shepard had seen these eyes before, and had submitted to intrusions of other minds, they had always a specific purpose that was much different than this. Seeing her hesitation, Liara had smiled sheepishly, brushing her fingertips against the side of her face, and Shepard allowed the intruding presence of another conscience to coalesce with her own. She had been gracefully introduced to immediate bliss of indescribable harmony; thoughts had enveloped her like a sea, and her senses were lighting up with so many echoes of information passed between their bodies that it was impossible to fathom anything in particularity. And as Shepard had been quite inexperienced with this transcendent level of intimacy, she had fallen into throes of euphoria much faster than expected.

She was introduced to another universe through the meld. She felt all the warmth that Liara was; kindness, compassion, patience, loyalty, curiosity, and intelligence. As intellect had passed her mind's front like the light of a sun, it had grown too hot, and too cold, all at once. She felt all the danger and ill that Liara was; secrets, breaking necks, shooting guns, biotics mangling persons whose names she didn't even know. There was blood, there was loss, great longings, doubts, and sadness. Memories of faces and smiles that darkened into husk-like snarls of anguish and Thessian gardens turned to ash. They felt each other's demons and delight, and accepted them all.

They were the peak of life and all its potential; a divine embrace.

**:::**

_The lighting of the lounge reminded Shepard of that which her old aquarium once cast into her cabin back on the Normandy. Once reaching the coalition of seats, they were greeted by the sight of a familiar silhouette poised on a long, geometrically-constructed sofa whose natural color was feasibly white, but now reflected a neon blue. Aria sat with her arms languidly resting on the back of the sofa, legs folded, and idly bounced one foot in the air with much torpor. There was the usual cryptic air about her that Shepard always had a hard time understanding; though the self-proclaimed monarch of Omega carried herself with complete confidence, deliberation, and the forceful yet silent projection of raw power, there was always a strange uneasiness that followed in close proximity whenever she went. It was almost as if she and the atmosphere around her were perpetually at war, and she was always winning in such a brutal manner that the war manifested into something felt even by others. It wasn't the possibility that she did not belong in whatever environment that she placed herself in that seemed to bend the light of her immediate surroundings, Shepard realized. More so, it was that her environments were dissolving away from her out of pure submission. _

_Cruel eyes regarded the two, then cast a brief gaze on the spot where the sofa bent into a perpendicular extension. The subtle gesture was accompanied by a slight tilt of her chin that bade them to take a seat. They complied. _

"_Shepard," Aria acknowledged her, then momentarily examined Garrus, "and her bodyguard."_

"_What are you doing here?" Shepard asked immediately. _

"_In France? We had to land somewhere, obviously. And preferably not anywhere close to your Alliance dogs," the crime lord shifted her posture to a more comfortable one. "At least this nightclub is better than that Purgatory hellhole."_

"_No, I meant what are you doing on _Earth_?"_

"_What do you mean _what am I doing on Earth_?" Aria snapped. "I went to war with you, you idiot. Flew in with the Terminus fleet on the Eclipse's second-rate flagship and almost got blown to fucking pieces. I'm regretting it now, of course. Should have sat back and watched the show from Omega instead of deciding that these morons needed better, local coordinating."_

"_Wait," the human woman gave her a bewildered expression. The scene of Aria standing at the helm of a ship with arms properly folded behind her back, checking into the summit and agreeing to fight _alongside_ those who embodied the sort of structured authority that she despised most was passing through Shepard's mind, and it was greatly disturbing her understanding of conventional reality. "You put your own ass on the line?"_

___"I need a drink..." _Aria squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. "You helped me take back Omega," there was a slight reluctance in her words, "so I helped take back Earth. Of course, my half was a lot more difficult. I wasn't even operating near the front lines and we still took a lot of heat. Don't think I did this as a favor or anything personal. This wasn't some immature artifice or answering a code of honor. It was nothing like that. I was simply… clarifying my business priorities."

**:::**

Her sleep was interrupted during those early silent hours when shadows hung flat and cold over the walls and furniture. While still in a dreamy daze, Shepard felt as though there were tiny strings holding the room together, and if she had even stirred a little, they would sever and the walls would crumble away. Yet it was all connected, all tied and secured by deft, cosmic hands, and the walls held.

"_Shepard's got a dark side"_, she had once overheard Miranda insisting to Jacob. _"If it comes to it, she'll do what she needs to."_

"_I don't think so_," he replied. "_She won't kick anyone off. She's determined to keep all these guys together._"

"_If it comes down to one person who could possibly compromise the entire mission, I really think she's prepared to make a sacrifice. She just doesn't tell anyone. It would probably make them concerned. You know she thinks about it; considers it. You can see it when she goes silent."_

"_I don't believe that. I just don't see it in her."_

Months later, Shepard was herding Aria's gangs. She was absorbing bands of mercenaries, and seriously pondering the sabotage of the genophage cure.

It was salarian support. How could one pass that up? They needed ships and firepower_, _and_ badly_. Only at the last moment did she reveal the scheme to Wrex. Later, he said to her, "_I knew we could count on you. Don't worry, Shepard. Those salarians and the asari will eventually join your summit. They'll realize that they need us and come crawling back, throwing themselves at your feet and begging for you to save them. Those spineless pyjaks… Yeah, they'll come crawling back all right…"_

It hadn't crossed her mind. In her blind desperation, she had almost made a fatal mistake. Not only did she actually consider betraying Wrex, who was a brilliant and progressive leader for the krogan and a dear, dear friend, but she would have lost krogan support. Wrex wouldn't have stood for it. He and his people would've gone on proudly to face the Reapers alone, and they would have been annihilated. No krogan support might have meant no turian support. No turian aid could have sent Earth into oblivion. And what other race would be summoned to an army of bleeding, empty shells of people? That single decision could have cost her the entire war, _the entire galaxy_. The little strings that held the room together had almost snapped; caught fire that would singe all hope, whose flames would leap from line to line until all was thoroughly burned.

In the darkness and silence of her room, Shepard suddenly became more aware of the fragility of life and its connections to other creatures than she had ever been in her life. To kill simple creatures as bees would be to kill plants, whose variation depends on cross-pollination; suffering plants meant starving herbivores, and starving herbivores would not satisfy the empty stomachs of their hunters. Her nightmares were accentuating the horrors of such a scenario, and she dared not move. She felt heavy guilt deep within her core and in her very marrow. Eventually, her bleary mind settled, and she slept again. The necessities of coexistence spitefully devoured her dreams.

**:::**

"_How serious are you? With T'Soni?"_

"_Fairly."_

"_That's unfortunate." Aria said, lifting her drink from where it rested. She slid one over to Shepard across the glass surface of the table in front of the couch._

"_Wait, why would that be unfortunate for you?"_

"_Because I have dirt on Liara T'Soni. And since you're more than just fucking her, I simultaneously have something on you." She took a drink. "You're not safe."_

_Shepard was utterly stunned. Her disconcertion immediately flared into a defensive retaliation. "What the hell do you have on her? Why do you need something on Liara? If you're still trying to strike a new deal with me, it might be impossible now."_

"_Your girlfriend is the head of an enormously powerful information network," Aria said vigorously while glaring at Shepard. "It would be stupid of me to not have some sort of defense against that. And the defense I have is simple, yet devastatingly effective. Her name." She firmly set the glass back down on the table, waiting for Shepard's reply with a superior leer. _

"_How do you even know? Who told you?"_

"_No one had to tell me anything. T'Soni came to me when she was looking for your body. The Broker was involved, of course, so I pointed her in that direction. She lost her little drell friend while getting your pile of meat back, right? A few months after you and I meet, I see the same drell skulking around Omega. Then it suddenly occurs to me that something's not the same about the Broker. Something's off. He's not as ruthless as he once was, and his agenda has changed drastically. He's gone from working with the Collectors to doing everything in his power to dump resources into Alliance hands as fast as he can. I would've thought that he would be stockpiling resources onto himself for self-preservation rather than giving his own arms and legs over to Commander Shepard's longshot cause. I can put two and two together, Shepard. I know what Liara is." She flashed her a look that held a distinct predatory glint. It was not exclusively an intimidation. It was also an advisory look; an attempt to convince Shepard that there was no wiser option than to be her friend rather than an enemy._

_Shepard covered her face with both hands, hunching over and expelling a slow, heavy sigh. Her drink remained untouched on the table before her, diffracting the blue light of the room onto the glass with its liquid contents. The bass audibly thudded through the walls and reached her ears. After a long while of critically thinking through the conditions of their situation – and after trying to fight off images of what may come if the association between Liara and the Shadow Broker leaked any further than it already had – she placed a hand to her forehead beneath a few pieces of stray hair. _

"_Listen, Shepard. I'd still like to do business with you. This is what I wanted to discuss with you. We've had a very… mutually beneficial relationship thus far. I'd hate to see it end over an insecurity like this. I need leverage on T'Soni for my own health, and I won't hesitate to reveal her little secret and put you both in harm's way if it comes to that. But if you break it off, you will no longer be considered a worthwhile affiliation, and no one will come after you."_

"_You honestly think I'm worried about my own safety?" Shepard grimaced in exasperation. "Is it such a foreign concept to you, to think that maybe, just maybe, I care about something other than my own hide? Haven't I gone through enough over the past years to demonstrate that in a way even someone like you can understand? I'm not like you, Aria. I don't gain loyalty by coercing people through threats, violence, and bribery. I don't live every day wondering if my friends are going backstab me. I don't spend any time wondering if I'm paying them enough to beat out the competition. I don't need these complicated systems to make sure I have everyone in line. I know that at any given moment, even when I've screwed up or when things have gone to shit, there's going to be someone at my back. And _not _out of fear of me."_

"_I was afraid you'd feel that way. You've always been very naïve, Shepard. You need to understand that you can't run an empire that way. Our lines of work are incredibly different in case you haven't noticed. You deal with politicians, common citizens, and the military. All abide by standard laws and your own set of common decency rules. Things are different in the Terminus systems. We've crossed paths and engaged in dealings that benefitted us both, but things are changing again since the Reapers are gone. This galaxy will not be united for much longer. It doesn't need to be. Everyone will go back to their own selfish agendas, and quarreling will resume. As soon as your pretty doctor finishes her work on those relays, everyone will forget about each other. I'm taking advantage of this moment of silence, analyzing my options and preparing myself to resume my own enterprises. That includes finding out where you stand."_

"_You're only putting so much thought into my allegiance because you know how valuable I'd be."_

"_But isn't that how it always is? I would never have helped you in the first place if I didn't think you'd be valuable to me."_

_Shepard rose up from the sofa. It was evident that she was preparing to depart from Aria's company. "I should go," she said with sedation, straightening out her clothes. "I can't think of any circumstance where I'd further require any help from you. I think our time has passed. I'll leave you alone, so long as you do the same for me and my associates. If you cause harm to any of them, I _will _come after you."_

_Aria stood up, addressing her directly with deadliness in her approach. Shepard stood her ground as their eyes met, both pairs of irises quivering with resolution. The asari glanced down, extended a hand, and brought her gaze back up to await the human's response. Shepard contemplated the nature of the gesture with uncertainty. _

"_Humans do this, don't they?" Aria asked pointedly. "Well?"_

_After one more moment of hesitation, Shepard took the hand in hers and shook it once. _

"_Let's not get on each other's bad sides, Shepard. It would be counter-productive to both of our agendas."_

_She nodded. "Deal."_

**:::**

Shepard awoke late once again. With a start, she abruptly peeled herself from the comfort of the mattress and stretched her body over to the bedside table where she checked the time on her omni-tool, and decided that if she contacted Liara, there was still a chance that she'd have time to talk. She sent a call while sitting upright again and combing her fingers through her tousled hair. After a brief moment, the welcomed shape of Liara was projected by the device.

"_I haven't heard from you lately_," Liara said with a slight smile. She seemed to have turned away from a desk.

"I'm sorry," Shepard replied, returning the smile. "I've been busy."

This elicited soft laughter. _"You've been busy? You look like you've just been sleeping. You've just woken up, haven't you?"_

"Yeah, I… I slept in a bit too long. I see I've interrupted something though. If you're too busy I can just get back to you later."

"_Oh no, it's quite all right. I've just been studying up on physics. It's come to my attention that being too confined to just one field of science is more restricting than I once thought."_

"You know, I'm pretty decent at physics, Liara."

"_Okay, Shepard."_

Shepard grinned with amusement. "I'm serious. I'm not as dumb as I come off to be."

Liara briefly diverted her gaze with a sigh. _"I miss you, Shepard. It's only been a few days so far, I know, but they seem longer than usual. Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. When we were in the park earlier this week, I was a bit cross with you. I said things that I probably should have said a bit differently, and I'm sorry for that. I was mentally and emotionally… over encumbered, if that description will suffice. I hope you're not angry at me."_

"No, no, of course not. I understand. I mean, I wasn't feeling all that great at the time either. I responded in a less than ideal way."

"_You seem to be in better spirits now, though. I'm glad."_

"I am. I, uh, also have something of a bit more consequence to tell you. Did you know that Aria is on Earth?"

"_No. But I knew that she fought on Earth. I just wasn't certain if she was among the numbers that left before the relays were no longer operational. I heard her arranging to board a ship into battle a few days prior to the assault. What of her? Have you spoken with her?"_

"I did yesterday. She messaged me. Wanted to see if I was still interested in a 'partnership'. I really don't know what to call it. She said she knows… about you. Your network."

"_I'm aware. I've taken the necessary precautions. You don't need to worry about that."_

Shepard was quiet.

"_What's with that look?"_

"You never need me for anything anymore," Shepard said in good humor.

"_I do need you, Shepard. I still need you very much. You may not be as vital as food or water, but your presence in my life holds an importance very similar to… shelter, I suppose. Or perhaps something else. A degree of comfort and much desired company. I like to hope that you still need me too in the same sense." _

"I think I do."

"_I'm glad. I should get back to work. Thank you for calling me. I will probably be back for a visit next week, and there's also a chance that my work here will be done since I feel as though I'm running out of usefulness. Either way, I will see you soon. Brush your hair."_

"All right, Liara. And you remember to eat."

The call ended, and Shepard was left to make another to someone else. She was very much determined to get on a shuttle to somewhere, anywhere, that needed help with reconstruction. Shepard was not excluded from the organism of society, and she wouldn't be prevented to pull some of its weight.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Note the change in rating, which is now M. Thank you for your feedback, it is much appreciated.

* * *

** Chapter 3: Sexual Selection**

**:::**

_"The sight of a feather in a __peacock's tail_, whenever I gaze at it, makes me sick."

_- Charles Darwin in a letter to Dr. Asa Gray, April 1860._

**:::**

* * *

Two pairs of legs strode down the immaculate halls of an Oxford hospital, clinging to the right wall to avoid the traffic of stretchers and practitioners. Though the sheer multitude and direness of emergencies as of late had fallen since the first week following the war, wounded refugees and the general sick were still pouring through the doors in considerable numbers. Liara was honestly impressed at the doctor's ability to multitask; how she was actively having a conversation with her while attending to the business and responsibilities of her experience in her profession was very engaging to observe. It was particularly fascinating because she knew that she lacked that talent herself. While immersed in her studies, research, and any other unmentionable operations, words spoken by others were usually met with tiny, inadequate sounds or single-syllable utterings of affirmation rather than any fleshed-out communication.

"I can't thank you enough for the donation, Liara," said Karin Chakwas as she passed on a datapad to a nurse. "And even more that you've come to visit me amidst all this chaos. It's all too hectic around here, and I miss the Normandy so. I know I'm most needed on-planet for the moment being, but I'll always crave the exciting, abrupt transitions between peace and absolute catastrophe when aboard that ship. "

"Joker's still officially piloting the Normandy, right?" Liara asked, dodging a pair of soldiers on crutches and managing to stay a single pace behind Chakwas. "He'd be lost without you. I think that secures you a spot on the Normandy in the future."

"Yes, that would be most pleasant. But not quite the same. We'll be missing the haunting dangers of imminent doom that once lulled us to sleep," she laughed softly. "Oh, I ache for poor Joker. He's been miserable lately without EDI. I miss her dearly myself. Forgive me, I shouldn't be putting your mood out. What I should be saying is that you were always a delight to speak to, Liara, from humble beginnings in your makeshift quarters behind the med bay to your office across the mess. I will never forget any of it. I suppose I say this now because it isn't likely that I shall see you aboard that frigate ever again."

Liara smiled, though a bit lamentingly.

"By the way, I've been forwarded Shepard's medical records from her previous doctor. Her doctor was apparently tired of hounding her for not taking it easy as recommended, and Shepard requested to be transferred to me. I said to her, 'Why _of course_, Commander, it isn't like I'm drowning in other clients as it is'. I was kidding; I'd rather treat my crew than anyone else. You're all still my family and you always will be. I bring up Shepard because you'll probably be heading off to see her soon."

"Yes. I've officially finished my work on the relay. I wish I could have contributed more. Although my archeological repertoire of knowledge gave the engineers a schematic template of common Prothean designs to work from, I couldn't help much more than that. My understanding of advanced physics is a little more than rudimentary. I think it's vital for me to start surrounding myself with other fields of science, and fortunately I believe I will be able to dedicate time to that now. Hopefully Shepard has taken to new personal ambitions lately as well, because it doesn't seem like she'll be commanding any ships for a while."

"Well you'll be pleasantly surprised to hear that she's been out very often lately, mostly alternating her aid between members of our former team in whatever tasks they had taken up; clearing rubble, a few escorts, mostly odd jobs. I think they've all run out of ideas now, as they've decided to host a fundraiser today at the recreational center a few blocks away. And guess what hook they're using to get people to come in? They're_ boxing_ each other. Give them a few unsupervised hours to organize an event and they have naturally taken to strutting about like peacocks to get people to throw money at them..."

"A peacock?"

"Have you ever seen a peacock, Liara? Some of the most ridiculous and confounding abominations in the face of practical evolution. The male peafowl sacrificed all traces of effective camouflage for a gaudy tail of vibrant plumage and an iridescent body as blue and green as anything could ever be. I suspect that the trait came to fruition in the absence of predators, which I believe to only be large felines, whose numbers are usual low. Anyway, they use all that madness to attract the peahen, who only chooses to mate with those whom she deems most luminous, as it indicates the level of health. I use them as a comparison to our friends – particularly those who conjured up this idea for a fundraiser – because more than likely, they're just prancing around the floor with their shirts off, feigning back and forth until people place enough bets. I know them; they all think they're the most magnificent things to have ever graced this galaxy," Chakwas paused to notify a woman in scrubs that she was needed on the fourth floor. "I know that's not truly the case, and I exaggerate. At heart they are all very humble and generous people, but they do love to show off and compete more than the average person when given the opportunity. If you want to go see them, they're probably in the middle of their flamboyant nonsense as we speak."

"I've honestly become a little too curious to _not_ go. You make it sound so absurd."

"Well when you get there, make sure they're not overdoing it. Especially Shepard. They're always leaving us more mentally complex creatures to pick up their pieces," Chakwas joked. "But then again, maybe they're the more intelligent ones for using us so."

"Goodbye, Chakwas. It was very nice to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Liara. Oh, and if you're intent on investigating new fields of science, I highly recommend xenobiology in addition to studies of your homeworld's biosphere. Very fascinating and wondrous."

**:::**

"Come on, people, place your bets before the next round! The Commander's looking tired so make sure to bet against her!" Lieutenant Vega's voice carried through the large room as Liara navigated the forest of spectators. Most of them were off-duty soldiers, and their bulk comprised the surprising turnout for such a simple event. When she thought analytically about it, the whole situation was very peculiar. Prominent members in society inflicting bodily harm onto one another was entertaining enough to draw crowds, who obviously took pleasure in watching them. The detriment of other organisms was enthralling to them, but why? Because seeing ill befall another creature while they remained in good health gave them rushes of primal dominance; to be reassured that they were more likely to outlive the injured one?

"Shut up, Lieutenant," Shepard's voice responded. "You wouldn't want me to tell all these people about all the times I've kicked your ass, do you?" Between the heads of people who watched, Liara caught glimpses of the large blue mat lain in the center of the floor, and people walking around on it. She turned to ascend a staircase to an upper balcony-like level where more people watched from.

"Whatever, Commander. We'll just see about that later, huh? Okay you two, get back in there. Last round, bets are in!"

Standing at a guardrail and resting her arms on it, Liara peered down to see the shapes of Shepard and Ashley Williams stepping onto the mat, fists wrapped in thin gloves and bodies clad in binding articles of clothing that they usually wore beneath their armor. They both immediately resumed fighting, throwing punches and keeping their legs in constant motion.

"Look out, Commander," Ashley said breathlessly as she dodged a right hook, "if I hit you a few more times all of those new body parts might fall apart."

Shepard parried a few consecutive strikes. "Better save your breath, Ash. You're going to need it. Let me show you why I became a Spectre first."

"Out with the old and in with the new, Shepard," she slammed her fist into the other woman's side. "I'm your successor, obviously."

A volley of trained and dynamic blows were traded. People cheered even in the absence of a crowd favorite. They were simply enchanted by the presence of the galaxy's biggest heroes engaging in pseudo-combat. It was the closest thing many of them had been to actually witnessing the legends do battle, and the champion factor about the controlled event was that they could watch without the actual threat of husks and Reapers _distracting_ them. When Williams hit the mat as a result of a punch that knocked the wind out of her, the crowd was in an uproar. Shepard helped her to her feet and exchanged friendly smiles and light pats on the shoulders.

"Come on, LC!" Vega projected his disappointment as Ashley walked past him. "You totally had the Commander!"

"Fuck you, James," she threw her gloves at his head. He batted them away.

"All right, Vega. Enough talk," Shepard said with authority, stretching her legs and leering over at him. "Get over here, I'm on a roll." She resumed her stance and gestured for him to obey.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be? Okay, Lola, you brought this upon yourself," he grinned roguishly, pulling a pair of gloves on.

When they initiated, they bounced around on their feet, stalking one another in circles and lashing out with a sudden jab every so often.

"Step aside, Commander. Let the people watch _Lieutenant James Vega _dance for them."

"I think they'd much rather watch me dance, actually."

He laughed. "That may be so, Lola, but this is the only way you know how to dance. I can dance in battle," he parried, "_and_ in the club. You don't have these _moves_, Commander… with your decrepit old knees and no… sense of rhythm..."

"I have plenty… sense of rhythm!" she objected breathlessly. And they did dance. They were a flurry of performance; deliberately producing elegance from their shallow gaits around the mat. Their contest was more than the discerning of who was more physically apt. Beyond that, it was about appeal and bravado, a social struggle to claim a prominent standing above the other in the eyes of their guests.

Shepard let out a sudden cry that practically bled a bright crimson power and slammed her shoulder into James'. They grappled at one another, feet twisting and digging into the mat as they tried to overtake one another in a collision of flexed muscles and pure will. James jeered at first, making some snide remark about him looking bad when he would eventually break her 'cheating Cerberus cybernetics', but his brow swiftly creased with strain when he realized how much effort Shepard was putting into their clash. They disengaged after recognizing their impasse, as neither soldier was yielding in the slightest. Relentless blows resumed. They roared at each other, snarling and fighting like a pair of rearing lions, bodies powerful and lithe, and at a point during that maelstrom of aggression, they began to laugh in puffs of shallow breath.

Liara observed in silence. Both of their faces, flushed with blood and brows beading with sweat, were well-known sights. They all used to look that way at least once daily, and quite religiously. The only difference between past and present was that someone was always in need of medi-gel by the end of the day, whether from burns, ammunition, or even falls from great heights. They were no longer in real danger, but their contest remained excruciatingly reminiscent of it. She wondered how they could stand inducing the memories in themselves, and even furthermore, to laugh through them. It was very peculiar to Liara. Perhaps the laughter was a mechanism for relief, similar to Joker's coping methods. Perhaps Shepard and Lieutenant Vega were laughing at the sheer delight of no longer being in legitimate mortal peril. But how did they keep their memories at bay? As far as she understood, the recollection of killing other beings did not induce pleasure within either of them, but deep pools of dread and anxiety. It was the reason why they never spoke of the fate of their sapient enemies after battle, only their purpose or tactics; they would never allow the thought of a face behind opposing visors to dissolve their morale.

"_How do you cope with ending so many lives?"_ Liara asked Shepard one day when the commander had been visiting her in her space behind the med bay. _"I've only taken them in self-defense; I've never willingly attacked anyone until now. It's absolutely awful. How do you manage so much death?"_ She watched the human pull up a chair and ponder the question.

"_I just try not to think about it,"_ she said in a hushed tone. _"If I can't put it out of my mind, then I just remind myself why it happened. About why it was important to the mission and how it contributed to a better overall whole."_

"_But what if later you realize that it wasn't worth it, that the end result didn't justify their loss?"_

"_Well, then you have to accept it, and do your best to not let it eat you alive. Our jobs can be brutal. We do a lot of ugly things, I won't deny that, but I try to tell myself that we do a lot of ugly things so that other people don't have to."_

"_Do you really believe that?"_

"_Not always. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to come on these missions with us. It defeats the whole purpose of what I just said. You shouldn't have to kill anyone. You didn't sign up for that."_

But the threat of Saren was far too much to keep her away from the front lines, at least on occasion. It was quite a while before Liara finally sat down one day and seriously contemplated her young, boiling anger and willingness to join the fight. She felt that it was the avenging of her mother, in a sense, that voluntarily drove her into the dark chasm of violence that the other crew members were already too deep within to turn back. She could've been like Chakwas or the engineers; a helpful force away from the heat battle, but just as vital as the soldiers themselves. But she hadn't, for she _despised_ Saren. She despised him for his crimes against all peoples of the galaxy, and for turning her mother into that monster. She watched her – the woman that raised her, who read books with her, took walks with her through beautiful gardens, and made her little wreaths of flowers woven together – _die_. Even though she had left her mother's side for her own academic pursuits long ago, she had not forgotten her. She still loved her very much.

And now Liara had grown accustomed to violence. Once Saren was dead, the pain still did not subside. She was even more burdened than she was before. There was a lot of blood on her hands; blood that deserved its fate, possibly, but blood nonetheless. It was not something that she could afford to dwell on at night before going to bed.

Her eyes caught the movement of a lumbering red silhouette shoving through the parts of the crowd below. Urdnot Wrex, accompanied by Grunt and another two krogan whom she did not recognize, looked up at the second floor. Liara's gaze met Wrex's.

"Liara!" he bellowed over the commotion. "When do we get to go home, huh? The krogan have a lot of business to attend to!"

As she highly doubted that she would be able to shout a reply over the din, Liara refrained from making an attempt, and decided it would be better if she came down to address him face-to-face. Her eyes drifted a bit as she began to move, and they suddenly met with Shepard's, who had turned in the direction of Wrex's yelling in a momentary disorientation at the mention of the asari's name. Before Liara even had time to offer a meek smile, a fist slammed into Shepard's face, rousing a chorus of vowel-heavy noises from the spectators. Shepard staggered back, tripped over her own heels, and hit the mat.

"Oh shit, Commander!" James exclaimed, extending a hand out to her. "You okay?"

She rose to her elbows with a pained wince and then reached up to accept the offered hand. "The mighty has fallen today, Lieutenant. Congrats," she said with strain as she regained her footing. She pulled her gloves off and lifted a hand to her throbbing face to discover a bleeding nose.

"Are you two done?" Wrex pushed between them. "Come on, Shepard, get out of here with your little scuffs. You both fight like hatchlings. Grunt, get over here! We're going to triple the earnings Shepard made!"

Grunt eagerly joined him as James was shunned to one side and Shepard retreated to the back to tend to her nose. "Let's show these humans how krogan fight! Place bets, you little flesh bags! Don't make me come over there and shake the credits out of you!"

Liara navigated down the steps and through the people as the noise level rose once more. When passing close to the mats, she heard the heavy crack of the head-butts produced by the two krogan among the ensuing growls.

**:::**

In the bathrooms at the back of a small locker room, Shepard brought a cloth up to her nose, cold and soaked with a small application of medi-gel. Her nose wasn't broken, and she hadn't lost any teeth; both of which were excellent news. She had spat blood into the sink for a few minutes, however, from a cut in her cheek. When most of the bleeding had stopped, she walked over to a bench in the locker room and took a seat. She rested her eyes and grew aware of the burning in her muscles, until she sensed that she was not alone.

Liara entered her range of vision with muted steps and all her effortless class and symmetry of movement. Her kind blue eyes fell upon Shepard before she leaned down, gently reaching out to hold the sides of her face, and placed a lingering, ardent kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Shepard. You likely took that hit because of me," she sat down beside her.

"If it's anyone's fault, it's my own. Or Wrex's enormous mouth," Shepard smirked, stealing her hand from her and clasping it in her own. Her voice was slightly altered from the cloth still held against her nose. "Vega deserved to win, I think. Every dog needs his day after all. Oh, sorry about the idiom. More like… even Vega's sorry ass deserves the spotlight sometimes. But it's good to see you again," She chuckled, then removed the cloth to press her lips against Liara's cheek briefly as to not transfer any sweat or blood to her skin. When she drew away, her eyes quivered in examination as they drifted over the asari's features. Gradually, her expression grew somewhat indistinct. "Liara… you haven't been eating lately. Either that or sleeping."

"I've been doing plenty of both," she refuted.

Shepard did not believe the claim. Her face was slightly thinner with more accent in her cheek bones, and the faint ghosts of lines beginning to rise from beneath her eyes. It was hardly noticeable, but significant to Shepard's eyes. The slight alterations made her appear tired, but also gifted her with a strange regality and dignified wisdom from all the weathering tides that her mind and body had endured. She had a subtle gleam in her eyes and a tilt of her chin that reminded Shepard of the matriarchs, but Liara was too young, much too young, to carry such a demeanor. It was, perhaps, the accumulation of all they had experienced forcing any pieces of youthful innocence that she still clutched from her hands. The speculation left Shepard with a doleful sobriety in her gut. Liara was looking away from her now. Shepard had parted her lips to tell her that she appeared gaunt – though that was a clear exaggeration – but she shut her jaw again when she noticed that their positions were very similar to the ones they held when sitting in the park a few weeks previously, except reversed. It was Liara now who was being placed under scrutiny. Back in the park, Liara had not tried to forcibly pry any explanations from Shepard, and it would only be fair if she showed the same restraint. So she let it go, and searched for something else to speak of.

"So, you're not returning to the relay?"

"I've done all that I could," she sighed. "Wrex will be disappointed that he'll have to wait a while longer."

"That might become disastrous. Too many horny krogan won't know what to do with themselves in the meantime. They might start smashing things that they're not supposed to. Can you hear them? I can hear Wrex and Grunt yelling all the way from here."

The comment, coupled with the faint sound of a gruff shout from outside, elicited a laugh from Liara. "Goddess, it's wonderful to be back here with so many of you. It'll make me sad when the time comes for everyone to go home. We won't see them as often anymore."

"We'll visit. We'll make_ them_ visit."

They sat quietly beside one another, listening to the muffled commotion from the other room with fingers laced together, resting on the bench, and staring off into space. A strange aura enveloped them. Here they existed in a single moment – and what a silent moment it was – preceded by such entropy and hell that the little cases that held their minds should have been destroyed in the strife. How could it be, that only the weight of so much suffering and sacrifice held up such a simple moment of serenity? They were sitting on the peak of a mountain they had climbed, looking down at the raging fires and floods that had engulfed the land below. All was at rest, even the people who had been pulled under by the wrathful waves of destruction. All was quiet now, and it humbled them to the core.

**:::**

Liara halted, looking about the apartment with both intrigue and confusion. Bouquets of roses and other lovely Earth-native flowers of numerous varieties and hues rested on every available inch of the surfaces of furniture, and larger arrangements filled corners and nooks. It was an amateur greenhouse. She turned back, casting Shepard an inquisitive look.

Shepard came up beside her, sniffling and twisting her features in judgment of her nose, which she apparently deemed acceptably healed. She folded her arms and grew quite smug at her peculiar living condition.

"What's all this?" Liara asked when she realized that Shepard was merely going to stand there with a silly expression on her face and deny her an obligatory explanation. She would have to impose, it seemed. "Have you developed an interest in botany?"

"No," she replied, rising up on her toes for a moment in a childlike restlessness. "They're all for you, actually. I'm very romantic, as you can see."

"_Shepard."_

She chortled. "Okay, okay. I've been receiving them lately. They're from people who managed to get a hold of my address," she walked over to a small pot with violet chrysanthemums rising from its dark soil and pulled out a small paper tag attached to it. She read it to herself, then looked back at Liara. "Make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything here. I guess later, or maybe tomorrow, we can move your things in. Whenever it's convenient, just let me know. I'm going to take a shower."

Liara was left to freely roam the abode when Shepard disappeared into another room. Naturally, she wandered over to the plant whose tag she had held but did not read aloud. She picked it up as the shower's faint rush of running water became audible, and opened the tiny card.

"_Commander Shepard, t__here is no simple way to thank you for what you've done for us all. Please accept this inadequate gesture of my dearest appreciation. I owe you my entire life. I see my children's smiling faces every day, and to be granted such an amazing gift left me unable to stop myself from sending my own love your way. I know what love is now. You know what love is. You risked your life to save people you've never even met and will probably never meet, and I believe that, Commander Shepard, is the most pure form of love that could ever exist. You are beautiful, like God, or whichever god you hail from."_

The card was signed with a name of a woman, followed by 'Spain' as her given location. Liara smiled, deeply touched by the note. Shepard was indeed very beautiful, like a god. Or even merely god-sent, as many people saw her to be. Though she was just as human as the rest of her species, she had grown into an icon of galactic salvation and unity. Her name was everywhere; written on walls, spoken on countless lips, and gloriously suspended in time for all people to remember forever. Liara didn't care much for the apartment's lavish and sleek furnishings. She spent her time reading the letters, immersed in the words of hope and gratitude sent to the woman just in the other room.

"_You kept tempting fate, over and over. You died! Instead of realizing how easy it is to die and deciding not to take another risk, you spat in destiny's face and threw yourself right back into the fire."_

"_You fought like you knew that you were going to die the end, even though you somehow didn't. You never hesitated to sacrifice your own life for those of the many. You are the definition of heroism and selflessness, Commander Shepard."_

"_The gods blessed us with you, Commander. The gods blessed you with power, reason, and tremendous endurance. And you blessed us with your bravery and kindness. You are an agent of the divine."_

Liara found a soothing warmth enkindling in her heart and growing brighter and brighter with every letter. Oh, how these people adored Shepard… And that being said, how strange it was to have Shepard's adoration herself. Though she realized that regarding Shepard as a romanticized, messiah-like figure was not all that daft of a reaction, especially in light of all that she had accomplished, she could not quite apply the same magnitude of importance to herself. Yes, Liara had been vital in certain instances and overall very important to their mission, but she found it quite difficult to accept that such a famed and loved leader would grant her a pedestal in her heart. When she put all their personal interactions and history aside, the idea, in abstract, made her feel somewhat short of breath. She curiously read the letters into Shepard's bedroom, where she sat down on the bed to examine a vase full of roses on the nightstand.

Shepard came into view, dressed comfortably with wet hair clinging to her head. She smiled a bit sheepishly, knowing that Liara had read many of the letters, and joined her side. "They're all… extremely nice sentiments."

The asari looked at her with an ounce of derision. "That's a tremendous understatement," she said quietly, brushing some of her cold hair back with her fingers.

"I don't know what I'll do with the flowers. Some are potted. I think I'll call some parks and have them planted there. What do you think?"

"They're your flowers, Shepard. You do whatever you deem most suitable."

Shepard looked at her with a penetrating stare. Something profound was happening behind her eyes during those next moments, and at great length she revealed her thoughts, "You know, Liara, I don't think these flowers exactly belong to me as much as they should. I think they rightfully belong to you as well. You deserve them as much as I do at the very least."

"You're just being modest," Liara playfully rejected the flattering, taking a strand of hair between her fingers and gently pulling it. "Shepard, do you remember when your hair became quite long?"

"It kept growing even on the Cerberus lab table," she laughed.

"Even I, someone who knew little to nothing about human hairstyles, knew that you needed a trim."

"There was no time for a beauty assessment back then. I only fixed it up during my incarceration. I had plenty of time then, as you know."

Liara turned her body to face her, leaned in, and captured smiling lips with her own. When they parted, she spoke gently against the side of her head, attempting to pour as much of her fondness into the vessel of her words as possible.

"You are the most beautiful creature that has ever existed, and I love you dearly."

Shepard drew away, meeting her eyes in close proximity. She held her face, brushing her palms against the line of her jaw, and observed her tenderly. The emotion in her gaze, however, was nigh indiscernible. She had always been able to do that; to sink into deep thought, but conceal all traces of it at once. Then, she kissed her hard. It was an assertion of all the things that could not be dealt justice through speech. It was an action of reverence, intensified when she delicately guided Liara's head back to cover her throat with her affection. She listened closely to her breathing as she trailed back up, softening her caresses until they were but ghosts by the time her lips brushed her chin. Shepard lingered there, watching her with misted eyes, and at last spoke against the exposed column of her neck.

"Don't glorify me too much, Liara," she breathed. "Those flowers _are _rightfully yours." She trailed lower, keeping one hand at the back of Liara's crest, holding her still, and using the other to open the front of her clothing so that she could access her collar and chest.

Liara was in a daze, hands grasping at the bottom of Shepard's thin undershirt and hiking it up along her back. It had been too long since she had last felt this; lips, breath, and hands fumbling and drawling along their skin, bodies gently shifting and quivering at every sensitive touch. Something, however, was different within Shepard. She touched her with purpose beyond that of simply communicating adoration. It seemed that she was trying to convey something of more gravity, as she was becoming maddeningly deliberate. Shepard's shirt was on the floor soon, and the human was beginning to pause to speak periodically.

"You have seen my visions and helped determine them," Shepard carefully pushed the white and blue jacket from her shoulders, running her fingertips along the shallow dips of her ribs, "And you have brought me back from death, and went on to give us the Crucible." She was peeling away her lower garments now while moving down from the bed and onto the floor where she stood upon her knees. Liara fought to remain relatively composed so that her words would continue to make sense.

"You have fought, and you have bled, just as I did, but even more," Shepard kissed the inside of her thigh, "you have been one of the great minds behind everything that we did. I'm really just a soldier – a lucky one – with a knack for speaking, and a bit of determination," she pressed her thumbs into the flaring bones of her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the bed and coaxing out a trembling breath, "But without you, I would have ceased to exist long ago. You, Liara, are likely the real savior here. If people believe that I saved their lives, they must also remember to whom I owe mine. They have to remember the roots."

An enamored sound escaped Liara's throat when she felt Shepard's mouth against her, kissing her center while her hands firmly held her hips in place to stop her from instinctively jerking forward. The chill of her wet hair against her thighs sent shivers of pleasure up her spine, and her hands washed over the folds of the bed sheets to find creases that her fingers could grasp onto to help her keep herself from completely losing her head. When her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, she saw the thin horizontal lines of light that bled from the window's blinds and cast onto Shepard's back. They curved along the virile shapes of her lean muscles, illuminating scars and bending with her slightest movements down to her dark waistband. Liara's face was aflush.

When Shepard paused, Liara pleaded with a whimper and fragments of her name, to which Shepard replied in a hushed voice, "If the galaxy saw the Reapers kneel before me, let them know that I kneel before you."

Part of Liara was frustrated at the mere mentioning of the Reapers during such a moment, but the remaining part of her conscience was in bliss at the meaning behind the words. However, Liara was still not convinced that the galaxy's fate was upon her own shoulders despite Shepard's sincere insistence. Neither of them would accept that honor, it seemed. They could not assign this feat to but one person; it would be an incorrigible injustice to all participants. A hierarchy of dominance measured in accreditation was obscene. These flowers belonged to everyone. Shepard was just the symbol of their unification that they could rally around.

Shepard rose, supporting herself with one hand pressing on the bed and the other between Liara's legs. The asari's breath hitched; Shepard's hair spilt over her shoulders while placing a kiss against her neck.

"You're very quiet," she muttered lovingly against her skin, watching the elegant arch of her back and delighting in the slight darkness beginning to creep into Liara's eyes and paling her irises; they were eyes that saw nothing save an endless black sea of desire that sought to pull her under its depths. Shepard kissed her jaw, reveling in the erotic intent of her abysmal gaze. "God, you are so beautiful..." She proceeded slowly, utterly entranced with the sight of her in intimate throes and knowing precisely how mad it would inevitably drive her if she continued so torturously. As predicted, Liara was soon keeping the silence at bay with her soft sounds of disquiet, urging her for more. Shepard sunk down to her knees once again, this time with the purpose of bringing her to heights.

Liara's fingers immediately wove into her hair but were unable to remain still; she ran them back, sometimes grasping harder than she meant to while desperately trying to contain the bucking of her hips and the sensual noises spilling from her lips. She wanted to braid the flowers into her hair. She wanted to place a crown of them round her head to make her appear as the beautiful Janiri, the ancient asari idol of seasons, storms, and fertility. What storms raged within Shepard, what gifts of life bestowed from her to many, that could not serve as adequate reason to bear such a resemblance?

Shepard grasped at the tentative presence at the edges her mind, pulling them into one another. They rolled and tumbled through the landscape of their entwined consciousness as thoughts, feeling, sensations, and identities merged until they were a single body. Memories struck like brief flashes of lightning. There stood Shepard, pressing a button in the Shadow Broker's ship on Hagalaz that opened the window shutters to reveal the magnificent view of shifting clouds painted gold and faint copper by the sun. She was smiling and using the word 'recluse'. Then Liara was suddenly in some dank ruin overgrown with vines, lifting a small module to the face of an obelisk for a scan. Shepard marveled through Liara's eyes, feeling all the joy and wonder of a fascinating discovery. There was the soothing glow of an aquarium now, cool air, and warm bodies feverish and trembling. A stygian veil of great fear loomed above them, which they were desperate to escape for the moment through bruising kisses and lascivious touches of aroused flesh.

She attempted to restrain herself, but Liara pulled at Shepard's hair when she suddenly felt her peak drawing her body forward in an exquisite arch.

Yes, she would look quite nice with flowers in her hair. Flowers like the peafowl's radiant plumage to announce her supposed blessing by the gods of life; flowers to demand a fertile future, and flowers to mark the end of a war.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Primordial Soup**

**:::**

"_Organic life beneath the shoreless waves / __Was born and nurs'd in Ocean's pearly caves;_

_First, forms minute, unseen by spheric glass, / __Move on the mud, or pierce the watery mass;_

_These, as successive generations bloom, / __New powers acquire, and larger limbs assume;_

_Whence countless groups of vegetation spring, / __And breathing realms of fin, and feet, and wing."_

_- Erasmus Darwin, "The Temple of Nature", 1803_

**:::**

* * *

A bright and warm dreamscape held Shepard still during the early hours of the morning. In the cloudy light, she sat somewhere at peace with little wind chimes stirring above her head like songbirds, and the scars that marred her hands and arms were but faint, innocent blemishes that would never again draw a troubled eye. And before her, in her arms, rested an entity whom she had never met before until this very moment, and yet her heart was already pouring its protection and love into the little being as if it were a porcelain jug filled with so much water that it had begun to stream down its every side. Her chest felt heavy; her breath utterly taken from her lungs in such an overwhelming state of realization and joy. The eyes that looked back at her were eyes that she had only beheld in reflections, but they were untainted. They were new and pure, free from the speckled hazes of nightmares and grief; and around them was an arrangement of features that were destined to one day resemble those that Shepard knew anywhere, in any light, and in any time.

She clutched the extension of herself to her chest in a delicate embrace. How could reality bend in such a benevolent way to please her so? How could the mere suggestion of ever experiencing such elation manifest in her unconscious musings? How was she even capable of fabricating a thought as perfect as this? Here she held her daughter, borne of everything she loved and everything she had ever bled for, all contained in this single, gloriously living symbol.

Organic molecules composed the little being; amino acids held her future. She had already survived a deadly turmoil through parents that nearly perished numerous times. Their genes had heralded her life; therefore she had been in constant peril even before she was born. Her very existence was extraordinarily produced by daunting odds. She was rarer than the combination of events that brought forth their galaxy, and she was the daughter of the entire universe. She was the endless fires of distant suns and crushing fields of gravity; looming gas giants and eerie quasars and electrical storms all cooperating in harmony to align in such a way that brought life to a tiny capsule of energy.

She _was_ the universe, looking at itself through humble, innocent eyes.

Too prematurely was she roused from her dreams, and Shepard felt a surge of emotional pain when she found herself in bed again. What a cruel injustice had been dealt to her, to have her beloved child pried from her arms...

A hand gently placed over her face diverted her sleepy attention.

"You're muttering," the hand's owner said with a smile.

Initially, Shepard's gaze flickered through the spaces between the fingers until the hand was removed. It was a playful gesture, but it had somewhat surprised her enough to make her eyes go wide. Her pupils constricted at the soft light of dawn seeping through the blinds and glowing around the form before her, and she settled again when she saw Liara smiling at her over her shoulder, arm now withdrawn. "Sorry," Shepard offered, not knowing quite how to explain herself.

"Were you dreaming?"

Shepard smiled and leaned over Liara, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the shoulder. She felt a hand reach back to grasp her right knee. A sensation complete with keen pressure and texture was sent to her brain; something that she hadn't felt for months, and after getting so used to the prosthetic leg, the feeling was pleasurable, albeit slightly startling. After reaching forward over her shoulder to kiss the winged beam of her collarbone, Shepard relaxed against her with a hand on her hip. Her heart was still fluttering with the remembrance of her dream; how moved was she by biological instinct, to create something between their bodies. To forge something out of passionate movements of hips and the intimate braid of their minds, to finally – deliberately – utilize these systems to bring life to something; they would spite the war, spite death, spite all the malevolence that once threatened the generations to come. Such a strange desire compelled and possessed her.

How beautiful it was, for their bodies and genes to hold everything they needed to perpetuate themselves. And even more so that their unity was necessary for procreation. They would make marvelous offspring together, with wit and cunning from Liara, charisma and endurance from Shepard, benevolence from them both, and thus an inherited legacy of greatness. And what, in this blissful time of victory and salvation from a grim demise, could ever feel better than the endless reward of rearing an individual that was made from an exquisite synthesis of them both? Here they were separate. They touched, and minds had mingled, but they had always become independent once more. But in the vessel of a daughter, they would live on forever; utterly inseparable. What a loved and precious creature that would be. A blush crept up to her cheeks; possibly, she was embarrassed by this consuming urge to procreate. Never before had she wanted any single thing so intensely, and so instinctively. Perhaps she was riding the same celebratory wave as everyone else was in the galaxy; euphoric relief from the pressure of extinction was pressing them forward, eager to restore society's population to numbers that swelled with health, with that incentive guised as love and reverence for their surviving partners. What a superb and innate mechanism that would be, if it was true.

She ached to make love to her. Her mind was inebriated with sleep and fantasies; she wanted to watch the darkness stir in her eyes while holding her wrists, or fistfuls of sheets, firmly grasping her hips in that way she liked, arched backs with shudders and enamored nervous systems colliding to sew a pattern of perfectly _divine_ combinations of genes... She took a shallow breath. Tentatively, Shepard ran her hand down the length of Liara's arm and dared to speak her desires through her cloud of thought. "Liara, can we have a baby?" She brushed her fingertips against the shallow ribs of her neck.

A sudden yet soft laugh rose from the body in her arms.

"What's so funny?"

"Your presentation of proposals," Liara told her, reaching up to affectionately hold the side of her face. "Direct as ever."

"I'm serious, though."

Liara initially responded with silence, seemingly to weigh the idea in her mind upon realizing that the human wasn't joking. "What, right now?" she inquired at last. Her tone was dubious.

"Why not?" Shepard buried her face into the crook of her neck and kissed her there.

"You think," she said slowly to make absolute certain that she wasn't misunderstanding in any way, "that we should conceive right now?"

"Yes, what do you think of the idea?"

Liara laughed again. "I really hope this sudden desire isn't some anomalous side effect from any medication you might be taking for your new leg."

"I'm not taking anything anymore."

"Well… I'm not sure that this is a good time. There's still a lot to do. We might be too busy."

"We saved the galaxy from a mass extinction, Liara. I think people would understand if we wanted free time."

"That is likely in your case, but you know what sort of work I do. I have a very busy agenda."

"I thought being the Shadow Broker was more of a permanent occupation. If there's no time now, then there never will be."

"Why are you so impatient to start a family? Things have only just settled down."

Shepard grew quiet. Perhaps there really was something else tugging at the edges of her consciousness. The more she thought about why the idea of a baby appealed to her so much, the more she realized that the concept of having one immediately was a very important factor in her argument. Maybe she was still feeling the echoing fear of death. Previously, she had lived in a constant acceptance that she may not live to see the next day and had naturally behaved in way that, while still keeping the future in mind, primarily acted upon opportunities that may have never been made available again. She had developed an exalted attitude of swift decisiveness. And even now, it had not gone away. Mortality had never left. Although she was not in same degree of danger that she once was, the reality of a brief lifespan still influenced her inclinations to act. "Well, I'm human," she admitted. "I don't want to be on my deathbed before I've even properly met my children."

It was now Liara's turn to be silent for an extended period of time. She turned around, facing her with engaging blue eyes before kissing her. "We will, but not now." She held her face in an attempt to soothe the crestfallen look that had seeped into her features. "Soon, all right? But please, don't guilt me into making big decisions like this." She rose up, meaning to get out of bed.

Shepard immediately propped herself up on her arms. "I didn't mean to –"

"I know you didn't mean to."

Shepard lied back down, burying her face into her pillow as Liara left the bedroom. She brutally reprimanded herself for letting her dreams carry on into the first thoughts of the morning. She hadn't thought out anything. Maybe if she had actually taken the time to sort her words out before clumsily letting them spill out of her mouth, she could've explained herself better, or at least made it sound less like the idea was just borne of her recklessness or impulsiveness rather than it being a deep, profound desire. Either way, she'd have to wait a while before discussing it again. She sighed.

With a bit of disdain she came to remember that she had her own business to attend to that day as well. Since the reparation of the mass relays earlier that week, interstellar commerce and travel had begun to boom once again. Along with that feat came leaps of technological discovery, naturally. Although Shepard didn't quite grasp everything in the tedious and seemingly abstract lecture that Liara had given her about some new revelations that precisely explained how the relays were constructed, she understood enough to infer that their world was preparing for another growth spurt. Liara even mentioned plans of building more relays that could provide travel to the more obscure regions of the galaxy, as there were many 'dark spots' scattered around its extent that had never been explored before by their collective society. She was extremely excited about the possibilities, and it contagiously affected Shepard as well.

However, the return to usual life did not come without the disheartening realization that her former crew would inevitably disband. Wrex, Grunt, and the rest of the stranded krogan were the first to leave on the very first day, as Shepard recalled. She had received a few crushing embraces and traditional warrior-headbutts that almost sent her back into the hospital before seeing them off. Then left Jack, eager to start up the Grissom Academy again for her students, followed by Garrus, who had much to do back on Palaven. No one expressed too much sadness, as everyone knew they would be seeing each other again soon. The bonds they had forged had become too strong to be broken by distance.

Among those who remained within the Sol system were Ashley, James, Samantha, and Joker, who had all been issued prestigious medals and awards and a few of them promoted. Miranda, in particular, decided to take up a job with the Alliance, and remained on Earth as well. She spoke of ambitions to lead a new branch somewhat reminiscent of what Cerberus used to be before going rogue. And of all people that remained within the system, Shepard had not expected Tali to be one of them. The quarian was excited to return to Rannoch with her people, but something was keeping her longer than expected, and she refused to tell Shepard what it was. After failing to persuade her to share her purpose for lingering, Shepard decided to let it go until Tali was ready to tell her.

And neither was Shepard immune to the reanimation of the galaxy. She had relocated to Vancouver in time to see its massive reconstruction unfold in addition to the resurrection of its political base and embassies. The arrival was slightly painful, as the last time she had been in Vancouver, Anderson had been with her. She thought of her superior officer often. One of the first things that she had done was visit a huge monument in the center of the city that had been erected with the names of countless soldiers that had been killed during the invasion carved into its dark, smooth stone. The smallness of the names compared to the largeness of the slab had drained her that day, but she refused to do a disservice to all who had given their lives by brooding instead of rebuilding. The rebuilding would likely take decades, and its reinforced foundations would require the plentiful participation of all people. Shepard too was being called back to work, and she would not see herself neglect her responsibilities.

**:::**

Liara stepped onto the gray sands, glancing down at her sunken soles before continuing on toward the shore. Low dark clouds masked the sky, slowly churning as if in an internal debate over whether they would release rain within the next few hours. Shepard had asked her to meet her in this dreary, obscure location via a small note left on her desk earlier that day with an invitation to join her in the afternoon. Liara hadn't seen the harm in taking a break from her extensive network to spend some time with her. They had both been very busy lately, answering the demanding calls to their respective jobs. The time off would be pleasant during the recent acceleration of their daily activities.

She traveled down a gentle slope as the rushing sound of the waves lapping at the beach reached her; tall dune grass brushed against her shins, and she stopped when she saw the familiar outline of Shepard standing some dozens of meters down the shoreline. She was in her dress blues, shoulders squared by the stiff fabric and the golden-stitched ornamentations. Her expensive shoes were half-buried in the sand with the water washing over her toes. She didn't seem to mind the possible damage it was causing them. Liara came up to her, her proximity coaxing a smile out of the human.

Shepard's posture relaxed at Liara's company. "I used to come here sometimes when I was younger," she began softly, respectfully keeping herself from speaking over the whispers of the sea. "I could be alone here, and at peace. I'd stand right here, just look out, and… think." She placidly demonstrated her words.

Liara followed her example and remained silently standing beside her while gazing out toward the dark horizon. It was very beautiful, although it gave her a sense of loneliness and anticipation. There was a vast unknown world beneath the tenebrous, undulating waves. It was no sea that she had ever known, and it would reject her foreign presence. It intimidated her, but Shepard seemed to feel quite at home. Her world's organic life had spawned from these very seas, and so the way Shepard looked out at the waters in wonder and attachment was not so strange at all. She was looking out at the ancient home of her furthest ancestors, searching the oldest codons within her cells for answers to the queries that lit her mind.

"What did you do today?" the daughter of these oceans asked her.

"Well, I'm now completely reconnected to the Terminus systems. But I don't think we need to delve into that," Liara replied, amused by the negativity she had unleashed into their otherwise comfortable discourse. Some of her contacts were better left out of idle chats, for they tended to dampen everyone's mood. Unfortunately, she didn't have many positive events to report either. "What about you?"

"Admiral Hackett called me in. He asked if I wanted to get back on the Normandy and resume affairs with the Council. The way he presented his offer put me under the impression that he wants to keep me on the Normandy for symbolic reasons. It's not so strange. I couldn't imagine myself being on another ship, in all honesty."

They both grew quiet until Shepard spoke again. "Do you think I should return to service?"

"If it's what you want to do."

"If I do, would you consider coming with me aboard the Normandy again?"

"I don't know about that, Shepard."

Shepard looked down at her shoes, watching them glisten with seawater and grains of sand with evident, mild dejection. "I remember once," she said, "when Anderson was still on the Normandy, I was looking out of a window, looking at all the stars and the sheer vastness of space. I wondered about everything. I wondered about my size compared to the rest of the universe, and how my lifespan would be nothing but this quick blink of the cosmic eye. I didn't know what my future was going to be. I didn't know what planets I was going to visit, what people I was going to meet, or anything. I was small and ignorant of everything that would come to pass. And now that I remember that moment, it feels very… eerie. I was standing on the very edge of this horrible abyss and I didn't even know it. It's terrible, how unprepared I was back then compared to recently. It's a tragedy and a blessing at the same time, how no one ever knows what will become of them." She gave Liara a glance and then looked back out at the ominous ocean. "I wonder if this is another one of those moments where I'm just thinking of everything, not knowing what's around the corner. I wonder if in a few years from now I'll be looking back on this and cringing again." A smile crept into her features. She began to retreat back toward the rolling dunes. Liara followed her, and they both sat down.

"I'm fairly certain that you won't be cringing at your ignorance of another impending doom, if you do cringe," Liara offered her optimism, but grew a bit solemn as she took a seat amid the grass. Shepard was wondering about the future. She was wondering about their new role in the universe, and at the moment it was very unclear. On one hand, she was being asked to continue the job that had made her great and glorious, but on the other, she sought a peaceful trail down from the violently windy summit of a military career. And Liara was involved, and she wanted her to be involved regardless of what path she took. The trouble in the issue was that they were two very different people who were trying to weave their lives together, and no matter what plan was chosen, sacrifices were going to have to be made in the end. It had to be addressed now. They had been teetering on this conversation for a few weeks now; both of them too scared to jump into it. It was grimly amusing, how they feared the effects of words more than the guns of foes. "Shepard, I've been meaning to speak to you about the future," she bravely straightened herself. "I hope you'll hear me out."

"Of course," Shepard replied, but Liara could sense her tension.

"Shepard, you know that I am still very young. As a human, I'd probably be considered nineteen or so, biologically. I know that I possess enough mental capacity and skills to be considered an experienced adult by any other species, and many other asari have considered me to be prodigal and mature for my age, but I don't know if that praise overwrites my chemistry. I want to return to the Prothean ruins. Part of me does, at least. There is more to learn out there, so much more forgotten history that hasn't been uncovered. I want to become proficient in all scientific fields. I want an _enormous _repertoire of knowledge and understanding. In conclusion, I am restless and ambitious. I want to move again."

"I understand, Liara. You know, I'm not really that needed anymore with the Alliance. Maybe still as a Spectre, but I could come with you. We'd figure things out. I can afford to leave all the dumb dinner parties and special appearances behind. Maybe someday having a family near the ruins will end up being very educational. I'd certainly learn a lot, I'm sure."

Liara sighed. "Shepard, I don't know if I'm ready for a family yet. That's what I'm getting at. This has been on my mind for a while now. Since I meld with you so often, I figured I'd tell you now rather than have you eventually find out by mistake. You see, I want your company, but I don't want you to give up your career to follow me everywhere, and I don't know if I can trade the ruins to go aboard the Normandy again. It's going to cause us trouble even _without_ the idea of children in the picture."

Shepard's eyes darkened with something incomprehensible. Her gaze dropped; strands of hair were lifted in the breeze and waved around her head until they fell in slight disarray. "That's fine. We can just take it easy, think about our careers first, get situated, and then talk about kids again. We'll wait about fifty years and see then."

Shepard might as well have stabbed her with her omni-blade. Liara's heart filled with a corrosive indignation as she dislodged the imaginary weapon from her chest, and without thinking, cast a small, benign singularity field at Shepard's ankle. The human's eyes went wide and a startled cry escaped her throat as the field instantly yanked her into the air along with streams of sand that had been caught up in her clothes. Her arms flailed in distress and disorientation, desperately trying to connect with the ground again.

"What the _hell_, Liara?_ Put me down!_"

"I told you not to guilt me about this!" She was absolutely bristling.

Shepard let out a grunt of frustration from where she dangled helplessly. "You have nine centuries left to study everything in the world, Liara! You'll know everything there is to know by then, especially at the rate you learn! You'll know every single thing about the Protheans, down to their damn nursery rhymes, but not me! I'm just a soldier! I've done my job! I will never pull off anything bigger than what I've already done, and the rest of my life is just going to be more guns and diplomacy and speeches and that's it!" Her shouting, coupled by her body's orientation, painted her face a rosy shade of red.

"So you're just desperate to escape all that through me? You want me to give you a family so you can _escape _these _absolutely horrible_ consequences of your fame?"

"I thought you wanted to have a family with me, Liara! We spoke about it once months ago, and you said that you wanted to just as much as I did. I thought it was one of the reasons why we fought so hard!" At this point, it was uncertain whether Shepard was fuming or simply confused and saddened. "I thought we were pretty adamant about it." She ceased her struggling and hung there inverted. Her arms gently swayed a bit with their dwindling inertia. "I thought you wanted to."

Liara's glare softened, and she shifted over to her and rose up on her knees so that they achieved level eye contact. She searched the human's eyes briefly, lifting her hands to the sides of her face, and delicately brought their foreheads together. "I still do, Jane," she said quietly, "I still do."

"We sure seemed a lot more sure of ourselves when we knew that we were probably about to die," said Shepard.

She kissed her lips as the singularity orb began to fade, and carefully brought Shepard's body back down. The Commander's back bent the dune grass, and the tall blades around her cradled her body as it was lain. Liara held her head and pressed her lips to her face.

The war was over, was it not? So why were they bickering, she wondered? Everything was supposed to be simple now. Peace was supposed to guide their lives. But in reality, how could they expect themselves to make a seamless transition from a life filled with death and horrors to a life with something as innocent and fragile as offspring? The stillness of life after war didn't make sense to them. Why had bullets stopped grazing their skin? Where had the dreadnoughts gone? Where were the fires, the barren fields infested with husks?

Those things were nowhere in sight. No more.

No more flying down shaking halls of hostile stations lined with hanging live wires and brief power blackouts, faithfully following the trail of lights left by the commander's armor whenever the power surged and splintering fragments of the exploding hull peppering them as they ran. No more freezing beneath sinister red beams trained upon their hearts and being overcome with an icy fear that nearly brought them to their knees; weary, bloodshot eyes slowly turning to their origin and trembling beneath the rays of light as if they were from the all-seeing, burning gaze of a sun who knew their every hidden and wicked sin. No more piercing shrieks of Banshees crawling up their spines and burrowing into their skulls. There was something horrifically different about them compared to other husks, Liara had always thought. They were hauntingly conscious monsters whenever the remnants of a sophisticated nervous system cried out mournfully from beyond the grave; the last fibers of sentience in the vacant cadavers screaming in agony as the body was pulled forward against its will while sacred biotics were torn from its withering limbs.

The waking nightmare was over, and it was time to repurpose and acclimate to a new world. They were creatures of war, disoriented in a new environment. They had climbed out of the roiling seas and mud, only to realize that they were no longer suited for the new lands before them. Too much conditioning under violence had molded their bodies into shapes that were resistant to any further development. In a grander light, it was generally accepted that they would perish before changing, like the old veterans of the First Contact War who still sneered at the other race whenever they could.

They needed to compromise, or be consumed by a disposition forever thirsting for conflict.

"We'll wait, Liara," Shepard said to her. "I'm sorry. We can wait. I don't want to ruin your life. I don't want you to go against your instincts and dreams just to make me happy for a while. I'm going to be such a brief little thing, and if I mess up anything, you're going to have to deal with it a lot longer than I will."

Liara leaned over her, resting her face against the blue fabric covering her chest.

What a strange marvel it was, that she, an asari, was resting on the soil of Earth. Nature had never particularly intended for her to ever tread upon these sands, and yet here she was after a voyage of countless light years. They had both sailed over endless seas of stars and emptiness, and had somehow washed upon the shores of each other's worlds. And even through all the patience of time, their meeting was fated to be terribly brief. They were little specks in the ocean; minute and ephemeral. They were mighty among organic life, but did the planets bow to them? Did suns beam in relief; did nebulas rejoice? Did the galaxy itself even so much as acknowledge their struggle? It did not.

"We can wait a few months before talking about it again," Shepard's voice was muffled against her shoulder. "Maybe a year or two. Whatever you need."

A year or two was absolutely nothing. She clutched her profoundly, knowing fully well that there would come a day when she would no longer be able to.

**:::**

Where they relaxed upon a hill overlooking the sea and the darkening horizon that was fit to storm at any moment, Liara had begun to amuse them with a story from her childhood on Thessia. She was sitting up while Shepard lied in the grass beside her, absently plucking tiny yellow flowers from their tall stems and placing them, one by one, on Liara's legs in neat rows.

"I was with my mother," Liara said, "and we visited a lovely lake. It was home to these amphibious creatures that closely resemble Earth's common waterfowl. I was delighted by them. I followed them around, but they were fairly clever creatures. They would scatter whenever I came near, but reassembled their flock right behind me as I passed by. So I'd just turn around and try to approach them again, but the same thing kept happening until I made myself rather dizzy."

Shepard snorted, and Liara glanced down at her to see that she had begun weaving long blades of pale green grass together.

"I tired myself out pretty quickly," Liara continued. "And when I started to walk back to my mother, I noticed that the waterfowl were following me. So I climbed onto the bench where my mother sat and stood there while holding onto her arm. I waited for them to return to the lake, but they stayed there staring at me. My mother told me that they probably wanted me to feed them, since they understood that I wasn't going to hurt them. I asked her if I could keep one. She said no." She looked at Shepard again to observe the progression of the little woven circle of grass she was creating. The woman was grinning at her story. "I wonder if that lake still attracts the same wildlife."

"We should go see."

"We should," she agreed. "But what about you? Do you have any stories about your childhood? Something I haven't come across yet in your extensive files?"

"Um, I really don't have anything to tell."

"Just tell me anything."

"I knocked someone's teeth out when I was nine."

"All right, never mind."

"I was a bad kid," Shepard said nonchalantly while dexterously working on her wreath. "Stole stuff, fought with other kids, rolled with gangs. Did my share of drugs. I did some ugly things. I knew I had to get out of there, so I enlisted as soon as I was old enough. That's about it."

"Were you as bold and charismatic as you are now?" Liara asked her with a playfully mocking tone, although it was still a legitimate question.

She furrowed her brow. "I don't think so. But I could never bring myself to hurt innocent people, and I never stole from anyone who couldn't afford to lose anything. Otherwise, I always just did what I had to do to stay alive. I was pretty unhappy. I just saw all the awful things that happened around the streets every day and I was really frustrated that it had to be that way in the first place. I wanted to do something to make things better. That's mostly why I joined the Alliance."

"Well it's safe to say that you came out of all that fairly well," Liara smiled, using the silence to watch Shepard finish her little project.

The human sat up with grass and sand clinging to her back, but she paid it no heed. "So," she said to her, "I know we're waiting to see if we'll have a family, but do you at least want to get married in the meantime?" She offered the grass bracelet to her.

Liara stared at it in surprise and confusion. She looked up at Shepard for some sort of clarification. "That's how you're proposing marriage to me? Just like that?"

Shepard gave a nod, her waiting eyes filled with simple honesty. "Well, it's not like I was going to try to bribe you with anything fancy. You're above that. I'm just kidding – don't hit me. Originally, this was why I asked you to come here today. But do you want me to bribe you anyway? I'll get you whatever you want."

The asari observed her for a long while, studying her lively gaze and watching sections of her hair part and toss about in the patient winds of the conjuring storm above. She cast her eyes down again while shaking her head, picked a few select blades of grass from the earth, and organized them in her hand. "Well," she began to weave them together with a smile, "I suppose I'll be needing to make you a matching one, then." She wrapped the blades around each other in tight helical braids, pulling and tying them together to create a circle, then proceeded to embed it with the yellow flowers growing around the area they sat within. Their vibrant pigmentation cut through the blue-gray atmosphere like little suns.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Heredity**

**:::**

"_Owing to the imperfection of language, the offspring is termed a new animal, but it is in truth a branch or elongation of the parent; since a part of the embryon-animal is, or was, a part of the parent; and therefore in strict language it cannot be said to be entirely new at the time of its production; and therefore it may retain some of the habits of the parent-system."_

_– Erasmus Darwin, __Zoonomia; or the Laws of Organic Life__, 1794_

**:::**

* * *

Shepard lifted a hand to adjust a limp petal hanging down from the garland that sat upon her head like a radiant crown. The flowers were Thessian; bright and translucent shades of pink and violet that let the evening orange light glow through their soft tips. And around her neck hung multiple wreaths of even more flowers – the longest reaching the middle of her stomach, and the shortest following the line of her collarbone – and each one, starting from the largest, gradually changed in hue from a deep blue to lavenders, and ended in the palest pinks nearest her neck. The wreaths concealed the many service medals that adorned her uniform. She was just gathering her nerves now; preparing herself for the inevitable. Liara grasped her clammy hand from the table, and coaxed her to her feet.

"Why do you look nervous?" Liara asked her bondmate.

The human lifted her eyebrows, refusing to admit to that judgment. "I'm not. Let's go." She allowed herself to be guided away from the dining table and onto the floor. Her eyes rested on Liara as they carefully took their first steps. She was laced in flowers in a way identical to Shepard, with a vivid garden of color against the pristine white and royal blues of her high-collared gown, complete with a noble halo of pearly white blossoms. She was beautiful in an organic, ancient manner that highlighted a special intimacy with nature. She made the metals and synthetic materials of their world melt away, and there she was, standing like her ancestors bearing the same variations of flowers whose purpose and meaning had echoed throughout her culture for millennia. She was all flesh and blood and bones; a gentle curve of her jaw that glided into her elegant crest, and a regal representation of the current state of her species still unworn by time's abrasive change. Liara looked like eternity.

The ceremony had been a hybrid of human and asari traditions. The most notable asari feature had been the bestowing of the flower-wreaths; as Shepard had walked down the aisle between the seating arrangements with her arm locked proudly with Liara's, they had paused at every row to bow their heads to the rising friend on their respective sides, who placed a wreath about their neck. As Shepard understood it, they were blessings. The superstition had it that the more wreaths they acquired, the longer their union would be with lasting good health and flourishing offspring.

And then had followed the dinner filled with conversation, memories, and laughter. At one point, it all felt quite surreal. It was like the war had been nothing but a nightmare. There was only their shared serenity; clinking glasses filled with champagne, expensive suits, dresses, uniforms, and loud, mirthful voices keeping the air warm in that garden on the newly-restored Presidium.

After tearing her eyes away from Liara for a moment, Shepard glanced out at the area; people watched them from their tables as classical music was played for their dance. She wasn't exactly a person to fear public appearances, public speaking, or public anything for that matter, but to have all of her wedding guests expectantly staring at her as she did something that she had _never _been good at was a bit unnerving.

_Stop it_, she told herself. _You're Commander Shepard. You're powerful and these people think you're a war god. You fought Reapers head-on, but now you're going to freak out? It's just a short little dance to make everyone fawn over the newlyweds._

"Be careful Shepard!" Garrus called out from the tables, "One nasty spill and you might break your hip!"

Shepard grew rigid and cast a deadly glare in his direction. He merely grinned.

"You know," Miranda hissed to him, "every time you insinuate that Shepard is becoming old and feeble you simultaneously insult my handiwork. You won't be laughing when you're the one breaking your hip and Shepard's still going strong."

When Shepard's toe caught the back of her other foot, Miranda was forgotten amid the chortling. Shepard removed a hand from Liara's waist to make a rude gesture toward them that even members of other species had become familiar with.

"I told you to practice," Liara whispered against the side of her head while clasping a hand over hers to conceal the offensive motion.

"I did," she said, pouring every ounce of charm she could into the simple statement in an attempt to evade being reprimanded.

"For what, twenty minutes?"

"…A little more than that."

She tugged at a lock of her hair, but Shepard only smirked in response. After a few more strained minutes of trying to keep most of her steps in line, she was relieved to see James and Ashley join them on the floor. Perhaps their addition would draw a few eyes away from her blunders, she thought hopefully. Then came Garrus with Tali soon after, followed by Jacob and Brynn. It was not long before the floor was relatively full, and Shepard was completely at ease with the surroundings. Above their heads, the canopy woven with more Thessian flowers of varying hues softened the artificial light cast by the pseudo-sky and leaked delicate peach-colored beams of radiance onto the floor. Every so often, petals would rain down, floating gently to the ground or coming to rest on their heads or shoulders.

Liara placed a kiss against her cheek. "Are you seeing what I see?"

"What?" Shepard cast a look to her left, in the direction where Liara had been looking a moment before.

"Miranda and Jack."

Shepard focused on the two, who were still at the tables. Though Jack wasn't quite grinning, she and Miranda were seated at the same table, talking with drinks in hand. They were even in close proximity so that they could hear each other over the music and surrounding chatter.

"Well, would you look at that," Shepard said with raised eyebrows and a smile. "No flaring biotics, no shouting..."

"And," Liara diverted her attention by turning them around. Her back faced the point of interest, so that Shepard could see over her shoulder. "Have you seen Dr. Cole?"

Shepard looked over to where Jacob and Brynn were leisurely dancing together, as influenced by the swell of her stomach. As Jacob had mentioned to her earlier that evening, their child was expected to be born in only a few more months.

"_You_ did these things," Liara said to her. "They're happening because of what _you_ did."

Shepard let out a breath of amusement. "Come on, Liara. Let's not do this again."

"But how does it make you feel, knowing that all these children are being born because of what you did in that final push on Earth and everything before that as well?"

"Well what about you? How does it feel to have provided intelligence and the plans for the Crucible, which made the Reapers' destruction possible in the first place?"

"All right, I understand. It's just a marvel, seeing all this new life," she said. "What did you think of Wrex and Bakara's children? I've never seen young krogan in person before. Back when the clans were divided, I suppose their mothers took extra care to keep them hidden from outsiders until they were mature."

"They're really cute," Shepard answered. "I keep losing track of who's who, though. Too many of them, and they run around too much to even take a head count. Though he did introduce me to his little boy _Shepard_. He said he was the biggest and strongest of his and Bakara's offspring, and something about… hoping that he'll inspire competition among them. I guess that's healthy for krogan. Oh, and _Mordin_. He really did name a girl after him. She's really intelligent, probably the smartest out of the whole lot. A hell of a lot smarter than _Shepard_." She laughed.

"He and Bakara will raise them well, I believe," remarked Liara. "Hopefully well enough so that they can one day continue to lead their people peacefully and acquire a spot in galactic politics. The krogan have been a huge part of our society. They deserve a voice, but only if they're willing to work with others."

"I think they'll be okay. No one's going to forget what Wrex stood for. The krogan are probably smart enough to see a connection between the curing of the genophage and Urnot Wrex's ideals, so they'll probably think twice before repeating history over again. I still worry about what will become of them, though. Their numbers are booming already."

The pair of James and Ashley came up next to them, interrupting their speculations.

"Lola," James hissed, "tell them to pick up the tempo of the music or something. What is this? Violins? Aren't you a Viking or something? Don't they have like, really loud music up there?"

Ashley leaned over to translate. "I think he's drunk, don't mind him. But he does have a point. I've been to baby showers rowdier than this."

"Well when you have your wedding you can have loud music and strippers or whatever you wish we had. I'm sure we'll all enjoy ourselves."

She laughed. "Just a joke, ma'am." They soon evaporated back into the crowd.

"Anyway," Shepard chuckled to herself after the two had staggered away, "they're all going to make great parents. It'll be weird, telling their kids what happened before they were born. What'll they think, knowing that their parents almost died, and that there was a huge chance that they would never even have existed?"

Liara considered the question for a moment. "Well, since Reapers would no longer be affecting their lives when they enter the world, it'll just be a story to them, I'd think. Evidence would be in ruined cities still under reconstruction and the absence of family members in their lives. Fortunately for them, it is easier to cope with the absence of things they never knew, rather than coping with things that they once knew, and lost."

Shepard absorbed her words, pondering on them as she took a long look around the floor. Her gaze washed over numerous faces, finding weariness in every pair of eyes. These people were tired; spent. They still laughed and danced because their universe had a future. Though their bodies still walked their worlds in relief, the war had suddenly made them ancient. It had made old men and women out of them all; sapped their innocent youth and introduced them to the grand hall of inevitable death. The intimacy with doom had poisoned them. They survived, but the poison was still in their veins and eroding at their life forces, locking them in an inescapable mindset tainted by suffering. How did one overcome the memories? They would haunt them for the rest of their lives, but it would not be so for their children. Those new creatures would emerge into the world pure and unafraid. They would not have such memories to drain them. Their children would be free, and that was what made everyone smile.

"What will we tell our children?" Liara asked her.

"Quite a lot. But then again, maybe not so much. They don't need to hear everything. They'd find out on their own anyway," Shepard replied with a smirk. "So I assume that you asking me this means that the chances of having children have gone up?"

"Well of course. It is our wedding after all. Naturally my propensity toward the idea has increased for the time being. And, like any other statistical likelihood, it is always in flux more or less. It's also a lot easier to talk in hypotheticals."

"Okay. Then, _hypothetically_, what do you think a child of ours would be like?"

"She would be inquisitive, kind, and probably stubborn."

"And just where would she get that last thing from?" She kissed her, and the petals that composed their crowns delicately pressed together. Then, as if compelled by the warm instinct that she had been experiencing lately, she slid her hand from where it had originally rested on Liara's waist to the lower section of her stomach. Initially, Shepard feared that she had overstepped the boundaries of their hypothetical discourse, but was relieved when Liara made no sign of objection. The asari continued to placidly dance with her, and the Commander reveled. Regardless of what would happen in the end, right now they shared a moment in which they both desired the existence of their offspring. Whether it would ultimately happen was not relevant; this moment was but a shared dream between them both of a possible future without the hindrances reality brought. Their respective careers and other demands of life could not prevent them from dreaming. Here they could peacefully listen to the violin sing while noncommittally entertaining the idea of a child, and that was pleasant enough.

But when the time came to awaken, they would almost certainly be forced to let go of the dream for a while. Shepard had decided to return to the Normandy for an unspecified amount of time, and Liara was going to a remote dig site with an excellent team of scholars and students. She had already made arrangements to bring Glyph and much of her equipment (which she was disguising as equipment that processed data gathered from their expedition), but a drop in her efficiency was unavoidable. And so Liara had come to the disheartening conclusion that she would never be able to allow any other career to take precedence over her position of the Shadow Broker. She was no longer the post-graduate who focused and excelled in the single field of archaeology with all the time in the world to dedicate to that expertise. She could not remain in the ruins for too long. And Shepard knew that while the Normandy had grown to be more of a home than she had ever had before, she knew that all ships had to come back into port sooner or later. It had only been very recently that she realized that she no longer felt naked without an assault rifle on her back – an ideal state for any peaceful creature – and to return to that life suddenly felt like a tiny tragedy instead of simply going 'back to the usual'.

They would both be apart for a number of months, but after that, there was a very good chance that their lives would meander back together and coincide.

**:::**

"Keelah, you two looked so beautiful," Tali said to Liara where they stood together away from the floor where people continued to dance to less formal numbers. They were a few strides out into the garden area, standing in the grass next to a path as not to obstruct it. The dark blue glow of the newly-arrived night prompted the lighting of street lanterns that lined major walkways and sitting areas. "You almost made me cry when I put that wreath around your neck. How do you feel, Liara?"

"I'm… very content," she replied after taking a long pause. "But more than that. I'm very pleased; joyful, excited."

"Are you planning on children? They would be so _adorable_."

Liara gave a soft laugh. "We've talked about it, but it might be a while."

"What does Shepard think?"

"She… wants children, but recognizes that we should attempt to settle back into our careers before jumping into it too quickly. Speaking of which, how is your own position treating you, Tali?"

"Oh, it's been great. At first it was weird, not having to constantly worry about geth or Reaper attacks. I've been mostly administrating communications and transportation between the cities that are starting to sprout up. The first few times when I took off my helmet, I got sick, but the more often I did it the more my immune system began to adapt. Getting sick was really worth it in the end. Did you see the vids I sent out to everyone? Me and Admiral Raan without our helmets?"

"Yes, I did see them. You both were very lovely. You must be so happy to have Rannoch again."

"Well… I never exactly knew Rannoch, so it wasn't the same as losing it and getting it back again. All I knew was the cultural goal. The quest to reclaim Rannoch became a religion to my people, so it was like reaching a fabled haven. But either way, it was amazing. I spent a lot of time there, but I also had some business to attend to on Earth. I haven't told anyone yet besides Admiral Hackett." Tali glanced from side to side before lowering her voice and motioning for Liara to come closer to hear her secret. "I've been doing a lot of work on the Normandy. Recovering data feeds of audio and vid files that have been accumulating in the hard memory systems since it was built. Things like that. I've figured, that if I could salvage some of the Cerberus intelligence that I've been given access to, I could find their notes on all their projects. And I did do just that. I've been reconstructing one their projects, and don't worry; I've been given all the permission. I'm going to bring EDI back, Liara."

The asari looked into the tinted visor to observe the dark and faint outline of eyes behind it. Her expression made no change.

Tali suddenly leaned back again and folded her arms. "You knew, didn't you?"

Liara took a drink of champagne in a vain attempt to hide her emerging guilty smile.

The quarian gave a heavy sigh. "You're no fun anymore, ever since you got that new job of yours. Did you tell anyone? Did you tell Shepard? You better not have."

"I didn't. I promise."

"Okay, good. I wanted it to be a surprise. Also, if it doesn't work out, I won't have to break Joker's heart all over again. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be trying to recreate an AI. I spent most of my life killing them." Tali pensively turned her head toward the dancing guests to think on her odd fate, but ended up bringing a hand to the forehead of her helmet. "You've got to be kidding me. Look at them, Liara." She pointed.

Liara looked in the indicated direction to see Shepard and Garrus dancing to music that was of a faster tempo than before, and therefore much more comfortable for them. However, despite the familiar territory granted by the gliding, smooth rhythms of the electronic lounge style of music, they were still dancing quite horrendously with a lot of motion particularly involving their arms. The longer Liara observed them, the more their motions became a bit reminiscent of some obscure batarian folk dance that she had once seen a vid of. Regardless, the sight still brought delight to her face. The two friends looked so pleased with themselves; they evidently no longer cared what the audiences of politicians and military officials of both superior and inferior rank thought of them, and that had pleasantly liberated them.

"They are so ridiculous," Tali said with a small laugh. "They look so _stupid_… Keelah, I have to look away or I'm just going to keep laughing… Anyway… How do you handle having so many secrets? Do you tell Shepard anything?"

"Well, my network was very open to her during the war. I set up a private account for her ID and transferred correspondences and other intelligence to it that I thought she would find useful. But otherwise, Shepard doesn't really ask. Sometimes she'll inquire about some event or person she's curious about and ask me if I know anything, and I'll usually have something to answer her with. But most of the time, she just trusts that I'll alert her if I come across anything that could put either of us, or our friends, in a large amount of danger." She, unlike Tali, stole another glance at the dance floor. The human-turian duo were now doing strange slides and hitting each other with the sides of their hips to send the other into small stumbles.

She had never liked to dwell on the fact that she held such immense power in her information network. It would always make her shoulders feel heavy. She could also tell by Shepard's controlled amount of questions that neither did she like to think about it too much. At any given moment, Liara had her hands around the throats of so many governments that there was no choice but to make herself somewhat numb to that responsibility, or risk driving herself mad. Indeed, she asked herself, how did it feel to have the entire galaxy at her fingertips? She could squeeze their throats whenever she wanted, and with ease. Just standing there in front of her array of monitors made her almost god-like (as Feron had once said when deliberating on the amount of power she now wielded), orchestrating the flows of intelligence with simple words and gestures. It really was too much power for a single person. What if someday, when Liara was gone, some criminally insane person would rise to take her place? Utter hell could be unleashed. Wars could erupt in _minutes_.

Someone had to be ready to inherit this weapon of mass destruction. But who could be candidates for such an undertaking? They would preferably be someone who already knew of her identity, and whom she was close to. They needed to be trustworthy, but they also needed to be quite intelligent and willing to take the job when the time came to inherit it. She was unfortunately likely to outlive her current friends, so any long-term plans of appointing any of them as her eventual successor would probably be thwarted immediately. Perhaps she would meet someone adept enough later in life, or maybe…

Liara once again turned to the sight of Shepard and Garrus effectively making fools of themselves, and another thought came to her as Shepard stumbled into Councilor Tevos.

Maybe a daughter would end up inheriting the network.

**:::**

After a brief rendezvous with Liara and Tali (and after they had thoroughly ridiculed her dancing abilities), Shepard went off to greet more guests. The air was warm and insects were chirping in the shrubs that lined the area, and at one point her attention had been drawn to some far corner of the dining tables set out in the grass near some rose bushes; there in the faint illumination of a lonely candle on the table sat Aethyta, looking quite bored. Finding that no one else seemed to be demanding her company at the moment, Shepard approached her.

"Why are you sitting alone?" she asked the matriarch.

Aethyta looked up to acknowledge her arrival. "Oh, you know," she began. "The usual reasons." She gave a small chuckle, swirling her empty glass in her hand.

Shepard took a seat across from her, settling down and neatly folding her hands in front of her on the table. "Like…?"

"Well," she heavily sighed, "I started talking to some of those Serrice professors. They seemed to have liked Liara a lot. Thought the kid was really bright the moment they first heard her speak, and I suppose they wanted to meet her father. They used to know Benezia, too. Let's just say that I was getting dangerously close to replacing the metaphorical sticks up their asses with real ones."

"Well, thank you for not doing that." Shepard hid her immense relief.

"Thank your Justicar friend. She showed up when we were raising our voices. The professors got really quiet, but not my dumb ass. I said to her, 'Who the fuck are you? This doesn't concern you.' Then I turn back, and the professors have scattered. Assholes, leaving me alone with a damn Justicar." Aethyta waved over a waiter with a serving tray of champagne, and had him place new glasses in front of herself and Shepard. "So Samara introduces herself and I remember who she is from vids I've seen when she was on Illium, and let me tell you, she scared the shit out of me. I thought I was gonna have to fight her or run away or something. But instead she invites me to sit down and chat. She was a damn freak, Shepard. I was uncomfortable the entire time, and you know how hard it is to make me feel fucking uncomfortable." She took a generous drink. "To be a Justicar in the first place I'd imagine that you'd have to have a few mental problems."

"What did you talk about?"

"You and Liara, mostly. She doesn't know Liara that well, just from when you brought her aboard the the Cerberus-funded Normandy, and then at that monastery a while back. But she knows you really well; had a lot of good things to say about you. She told me that you were like a human Justicar, protecting people and ruthlessly stomping out injustices and all that crap. She even had a few horror stories about you dealing with gangs. Didn't know you had it in you, Shepard."

Shepard shrugged, holding the rim of her glass within her fingertips. "Well… I've never done anything too cruel to anyone. You make peace when you can, but you also have to recognize times when it's going to get ugly, and you do what you have to do. You need to be brutal sometimes."

"Well said. Keep it up, Shepard. I like you more with every little nasty surprise." She raised her glass to her.

A long silence passed between them. Shepard stared at her untouched drink, then looked back up at Aethyta, whose features had darkened with thought.

"Benezia and I didn't have a big wedding," she said quietly at last after finishing her champagne. "We just went to dinner with a few friends who didn't hate the idea of us being together, then went home and had sex all night. I was perfectly happy with that, but you know…" She trailed off while glaring at nothing in particular; apparently contemplating something quite intensely. "I'm not even sure why Nezzy liked me all that much. We hardly had anything in common. I've always had a big mouth, a temper, and whenever I'm pissed off I'll fight you to the freakin' _death_. And she was always quiet, thoughtful, patient. Sweet and gentle and kind, and she had tons of friends. Everyone loved Nezzy. She was so beautiful. Fuck, I've been drinking. Sorry, Shepard."

"No, it's okay. Go on."

"I mean, even an asshole like me understood how perfect Nezzy was. But even to this day I'm still trying to understand why she wanted to be with me. I was always causing trouble with the other matriarchs and making her look bad, but she still stayed with me for a century. She_ must've_ loved me. But why, you know? I loved Nezzy because she was interesting and smart and beautiful, and although we disagreed on a lot of things, she didn't call me an idiot for thinking differently. She actually listened to what I had to say."

"Maybe that's why she loved you. Because you weren't afraid to be different or to speak your mind," Shepard offered. "Maybe Benezia was tired of always being around people who said things they didn't mean, or people who pretended that they agreed with something just to avoid conflict. Maybe she admired your bravery and honesty. You were genuine."

"Could be, Shepard. It would certainly make me feel good if it were true. She always did like things that she didn't understand. It gave her the opportunity to learn. That's what she always told me, at least. Maybe I was so ridiculous and difficult that she thought I was a goldmine of new ideas or something. I just… sometimes I think, what if I wasn't such a combative piece of crap to her all the time? What if I just sat my ass back the fuck down every now and then? Could we have still been together? Maybe I could've talked her out of hanging around Saren. Maybe I could've fucking _killed _Saren, that piece of shit turian. I would've ripped out his damn…" Aethyta sighed and lowered her voice. "Maybe I could've saved Nezzy from being indoctrinated."

Shepard extended a hand across the table, placing it near her empty glass to indicate an earnest intent. "Don't do that to yourself. You can't torture yourself with things out of your control."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I should've tried harder to get her back. She made me so happy. We had Liara even when we knew that our relationship was starting to go downhill. We were still sort of clinging onto these strands of hope that we would make it, so we decided to have a baby. I'm not even sure why; one night we were sitting there quietly, and we just sort of… went at it. It was reckless, when you think about it, but I'm really glad we did it. We poured all our love into that kid, everything we had left in us. And so, even when Nezzy and I were no longer together, we were still together somewhere. In Liara. Liara's where we're still together."

She turned to gaze off into the crowds of people, influencing Shepard to follow her stare that eventually rested on Liara, who was speaking to those professors that Aethyta previously had an altercation with. Liara was all soft smiles, good posture, and a queenly demeanor beneath her halo of flowers.

"There's me and Nezzy," Aethyta said fondly, "still together for another nine hundred years, give or take." She turned back to Shepard, her eyes suddenly growing harsh again. "So you better fucking take care of each other. That's means cut the dying bullshit until you're old and boring and everyone's tired of you and actually waiting for you to die. And don't you dare pressure her into having kids with you. She's still young and she's probably not even ready for that. Kids are permanent little shits and she'll have to deal with your dumbass ones long after you're gone. But knowing Liara, she's probably going to end up wanting to have kids with you. She loves you too much. When that time comes you better make sure that she knows exactly what she's getting into. I swear by Athame's sweet ass that I will _kick yours _if you don't make absolute certain that she's ready. Galactic hero or not, Shepard, there will be blood. Got it?"

"Don't worry, Aethyta. I got it," Shepard said and calmly sipped her champagne. Aethyta was obviously on an inebriated rant, but her advice – well, memories and threats – were still genuine and thoughtful enough to still pay close attention to. And even furthermore, Shepard knew that if she left her alone, Aethyta would probably spend the rest of the night hunting down those professors, or finding someone entirely new to fight with. She wouldn't leave either way. Though abrasive, Aethyta was still good company in her own exclusive, albeit strange way.

"Good," said the matriarch. "I don't have much more marital advice to give you. You've both probably got it better figured out than I ever did. I guess the only thing I have to say is… Don't give up on each other if you start encountering problems. Don't fight over stupid shit. Concede here and there. Pick your battles, but don't be a fucking pushover. Try to get what you want, but don't be a greedy bitch about it. And some days… just being in love isn't going to solve all your problems. You need to stick together for the days when you're angry or tired and you might not even love her anymore for a while. I hear people all the time talking about their little boyfriends or girlfriends, 'Oh, I love them so much, I'd die for them!' _So fucking what?_ What I wanna know is if you can _live_ for someone. Dying is fucking easy. Living is hard shit. You die for someone and you've made your point without having to put up with their bullshit for years. But if you tell someone that you're willing to stay with them through the rest of your shitty lives, _that_ means a hell of a lot more. Just keep that in mind and you two kids are pretty well set up. Just look out for each other. That's it. Anyway, back to that kid thing. I've got one more thing to tell you. Asari actually have a pretty large degree of control concerning what their kids are gonna be like. Mothers are able to see the father's genes and decide which ones are good. That's the simplified version of how it is, but it can be important, and I want you both to make sure you talk about any bad genes or things you should watch out for if you decide to conceive. I remember this short little moment, just a second or two, when Nezzy was mapping out my genes, and I was pleading in our heads, 'Please, Nezzy. Please don't use too much of me'. I could care less about what anyone thinks about me, but I'm not a selfish idiot. Not always. If Liara was going to be anything too much like me, she was going to have trouble in life. And I loved Benezia and our future kid way too much to let that happen. I wanted this kid to be happy, friendly, smart, and successful like Nezzy. And… she did turn out that way, pretty much. I'm glad she did." She turned back toward her daughter.

Shepard watched her for a while before speaking again. "I think Liara has more of you than you think."

"Ha, that's a laugh," Aethyta rolled her eyes, but didn't turn back to face the human. "Like what?"

"Well," Shepard sat back in her chair, "she's not as social as Benezia was. That's for certain. And… for an asari, she takes action a lot more often. She spends a lot of time planning things, but they always get done quickly, and sometimes even expediently. She's bold and progressive in her own way, and always changes her outlook in light of new evidence or change. It may just be her youth, but Liara can be frightening when angry and she doesn't exactly agree with her government all the time. She tells me that a lot of matriarchs and other people of influence have called her a radical, but at least now they listen to her more because of her role in the war."

"Well that's good. I never thought anyone would be able to make those assholes listen. I'm glad that kid was able to do what I couldn't pull off." Aethyta smiled suddenly, seriously considering what Shepard had told her. Perhaps Liara really was a stronger union of her and Benezia than she thought. Maybe their distinct, conflicting personalities truly had found peace somewhere; in the vessel of Liara. "Maybe you're right, Shepard," she quietly said to her. "…Thank you."

**:::**

The more high-profile guests had begun to leave at a certain point in the night when those who had been drinking copious amounts were making themselves prominent. It wasn't clear exactly when the departing of guests became obvious, but it seemed to be around the time when the wedded couple had been seized onto the shoulders of their able-bodied friends who paraded them around the gardens while spewing out heroic deeds that the two had committed.

"_Strike a pose, Lola! Flex those muscles!" _James had said to Shepard while carrying Liara on his and Steve's shoulders, ignoring Liara's death grip on them_. "You too, Doc!"_

"_Oh Goddess, put me down! There are matriarchs in attendance! Professors from the University of Serrice –"_

"_Shepard the warlord and T'Soni the quarter-krogan encyclopedia," _Wrex had laughed heartily as he carried Shepard on his own._ "Make your guests bow to you!"_

Somehow the parading had turned into racing around, which had probably ruffled the strict feathers of a certain demographic of people in attendance. But they did not look down upon the heroes of the galaxy; they simply did not wish to be caught in the crosshairs of their celebratory conduct.

The night became a blur until Shepard was asked a certain question; James had inquired if she went to Valhalla during the two years of being dead, to which she replied with a confounded expression. That instance was oddly the definitive sign that it was time for everyone to call a cab, which they presumably did, as Shepard tried not to pay close attention to who went to each hotel room with whom. Those things were none of her business.

In their own cab, guided through the Presidium on its auto-piloting feature with their destination set for their expensive room for the night, Liara sat comfortably in the darkness with her body oriented toward Shepard. They watched each other with content smiles, saying nothing to leave the subtle hum of the vehicle uninterrupted. Her blue eyes drew upward to examine the human's crown of flowers, whose petals were unfortunately beginning to droop. Their fine tips hung in her forehead, brushing her brow, but not obscuring the green stare that returned her own.

What lively eyes they were. They were full of their own universe, of memories of things that most people had never dreamed of seeing. A sobering thought suddenly held her captive; how sad it was, that those memories would be lost one day. She tried to make joy return to her heart by telling herself that Shepard could never die, for she had preserved life for them all and therefore would live on forever within each of them. But the briefness of her bondmate's life was ever-growing in her mind.

They would sit on a throne together for years, but a day would come when Shepard would begin to wilt, just like the flowers around her head. She would become a tired queen. Her bones would tire, her head would bow, her hands would grow cold and weak, and her eyes would dim and lose their sight.

Eyes that had seen visions of grandeur and wonder. Eyes that had seen the somber Noverian snow as the blizzards stung her face. Eyes that had watched the painting-esque clouds on Hagalaz swirl and conspire all around her like a chaotic heaven. Eyes that had watched the mighty thresher maw burst from Tuchanka's depths in a rumbling quake to defend its ancient home against a Reaper; eyes that had tracked her frantic movements while she fled breathlessly from their gargantuan clash as the entire world seemed to crumble around her. Eyes that had met the gaze of a Reaper on Rannoch as she roared that_ enough was enough_, defying its burning red gaze and commanding hell to rain down upon its massive body. And, eyes that had seen the beauty and loneliness of the inverted horizon of her homeworld while sitting beside her dying friend. How small she had felt. How alone and weary she had felt – to have the weight of the entire galaxy resting upon her broken body.

All those memories, no matter how marvelous, would evaporate in her final exhale and be lost to time forever. Even though Liara had been in her mind, and had seen these sights through her eyes, she too would wilt one day. And while the preservation of their bodies was inevitable through laws of energy conservation, or simply through the means of a child, the single thing that could not be inherited among all other traits and characteristics, were memories. Never again would another soul feel what they felt. Never again would those visions and feelings be experienced, in all the life that remained in their universe.

Shepard gathered her hands in her own and beheld her with a gaze full of sights shimmering beneath its surface.

Liara stared at their hands before looking up again. She took great care to keep her voice low. "Jane… what is Valhalla?"

"Viking afterlife," she replied in an equally soft tone. "For warriors. Half go there, and the other half go to Fólkvangr."

"What other names have humans given to the possible afterlife?"

"Well, there's Heaven, Jannah, then there's Moksha, and Elysium…There are many more. Those are just a few."

Liara gently stroked Shepard's knuckles. "Elysia is an asari name," she mused.

Their eyes met again, studying each other's expressions as their thoughts developed in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Synthetic and Organic**

**:::**

"_It's not that different from organic life. A free-willed synthetic chooses what it wants… Reproduction isn't all there is. We find meaning in the work we do, good deeds we accomplish, love…"_

_- Commander Shepard, 2186 CE_

**:::**

* * *

Commander Shepard stepped out of the elevator and into the CIC. Her uniform was sharp and tidy with the shimmer of its golden ornamentations in the subdued lighting drawing the eyes of her crew and prompting salutes. As she passed them, Shepard exchanged a friendly nod with Samantha Traynor, who smiled proudly at her commanding officer, then continued down into the cockpit to find Joker alone at the helm. She stood there erect with hands folded neatly behind her back, and spoke.

"How's everything running?" she asked, letting her eyes drift about the many monitors.

"Smooth as ever, Commander," he replied, making a few tiny adjustments in the glowing interface. "Just punch in those coordinates and we are back in business. Though being on Earth for a while was nice, it's high time we came out of orbit. Let's get on that victory cruise. This is Destiny Ascension status, Commander! We're pretty big now, huh?"

Shepard raised an amused eyebrow. "I didn't expect you to be so happy about touring a bunch of colonies. We're going to be making speeches and talking to crowds of people at each one. I thought you didn't like that sort of thing."

"Yeah, well, you know. It's just good to get off the ground again. I can deal with listening to you telling the same speech thirty times over if it puts me back in this chair." He patted the armrest for emphasis.

"Well let's not waste any time then," said the Commander, placing a hand on Joker's shoulder to express their camaraderie before leaving the area and retreating back to the galaxy map. After sending Joker the first set of coordinates, Traynor spoke up from her station.

"Commander," she said to her, "you've got a few new messages, and EDI would like to speak with you down in the AI core."

Shepard paused, reasoning that the subject matter must have been something of relative importance, since their discourse would be in private instead of reaching her over the many speakers installed in the vessel. She thanked the specialist, but before she turned to leave, Samantha stopped her for a moment longer with a final word.

"And Commander?"

"Yes?"

"It's great to be here again. We're glad to have you back."

Shepard smiled at her. "It's good to be back." She dismissed herself into the elevator once more.

After selecting the floor of her destination, Shepard sank into her thoughts as the elevator began to descend. Being aboard the Normandy again felt positively wonderful. It was like a bird returning to the skies, or a beached marine creature managing to lurch its arid body back into the sea foam. It was still saddening that so many of the wonderful crew she had grown so close to over the past few years could no longer stay aboard. There were murmurs about Garrus becoming a Primarch in the near future despite his obvious disdain at all the formalities, traditions, and rigid procedures that would come with the position. Tali was off aiding the development of a new society on Rannoch, Wrex was doing something very similar away on Tuchanka, and Spectre Ashley Williams was carrying out duties of her own; there were too many people to account for. Shepard was grateful to still share the Normandy with so many faces that had been with her during the darkest times of organic life, but the absence of her closest friends was sobering.

And Liara - of course she missed her dearly. The Commander pulled the end of her sleeve up few centimeters, revealing the silvery shimmer of her bond bracelet. She had always thought asari traditions to be elegant and beautiful, and so she had naturally adhered to her bondmate's cultural trinkets of marriage. The idea of being married was terribly foreign, and Shepard often had to remind herself that it was true, but the remembrance always enkindled a warmth within her chest. Someday, some number of months from now, maybe they would live on Thessia, or Earth, or possibly alternate between both depending on the season - never having to fear a deluge of Reaper-fire again as they spent the remainder of their lives in delightful peace.

**:::**

The dim glow of the AI core gleamed off the metallic curves of EDI's anthropomorphic shell as she idly paced about the interior, seeming to be deep in thought. Or computation; Shepard still wasn't completely sure what nomenclature to use. She was very much aware that EDI considered herself to be alive, and strangely... Shepard felt that the ability to define oneself as alive through the personal desire to be in that state was reason enough to accept it as truth. It was always a complicated subject to debate.

"What are you doing down here, EDI?" she asked as the doors slid shut behind her.

EDI turned on her heel, directing her body towards the Commander to greet her. "I was contemplating while awaiting your arrival. I found this area to be suitable for a private conversation."

"Why private?" Shepard asked with a hint of caution.

"It may make the other crew members… uncomfortable, if they overheard. My intended topics carry the possibility of triggering harmful memories and emotions. It is about the war."

The Commander inwardly grimaced, fearing the worst. "What's on your mind?"

"Why did you choose to destroy synthetic life forms?"

She had anticipated the severity of the topic well. Shepard stood there for a long moment beneath EDI's patient gaze, trying to reign in her speeding thoughts so that she could issue a coherent and accurate reply. Her lips parted, but still no sound came out. She was hopelessly at a loss for words, perhaps from the shock invoked by the question.

"I am sorry," said EDI, noticing her wide-eyed stare. "I did not intend to cause you distress. My question comes without personal investments; I merely wish to know out of curiosity, to better understand."

Shepard regathered the courage she had briefly lost, leaned back against a pillar of hardware, and spoke."Well, when I was told that I could control the Reapers, I was shocked and surprised to see that the Illusive Man had been right all along. He didn't go about it correctly, but he was right. I felt that it was the best decision, as it was my first impulse. I remember starting to walk over to the module, and I suddenly stopped. I was afraid. I thought, 'what if I'm indoctrinated?' And what if I was? When Anderson and I encountered the Illusive Man, I felt it. What if it was too late for me? What if I was walking toward a trap; what if my mind was becoming to corrupt to guide the reapers safely?" she paused, nearly shivering at the memory of the inky tendrils of corruption gripping and infecting the edges of her mind. "If anything ever went wrong, the massacre could easily start again. So I looked over at the option of synthesizing organic and inorganic life. It would bring about peace, but I didn't feel like I had the right to force such a huge change onto everyone in the galaxy without even getting their consent. I thought it'd be… almost immoral. It was such an unknown, and I didn't feel like I should take the risk. I had one shot at this. I had to make it count. And so… I destroyed them. It was the only guaranteed way of keeping the Reapers away forever. I'm… I'm sorry EDI. I haven't said this until now, but… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She looked at her with weary, mournful eyes.

"It is quite all right, Shepard," EDI reassured her. "After hearing your reasoning I see that it was a very rational choice. In your position I would have likely done the same."

Shepard shook her head dolefully and gave a sigh. "I _killed_ you, EDI. And all the geth who we fought so hard to save… You just don't let something like that go."

"Well, the origin of synthetics are organics, Shepard. To ensure the survival of them is to ensure the reemergence of synthetics. Tali'Zorah was able to 'ressurect' me, after all."

"And I'm glad she was able to," the human managed a small smile. "The Normandy wouldn't have been the same."

EDI nodded her thanks. "While we are here, I would also like to comment on a strange phenomenon I experienced. Upon regaining consciousness, I accessed the data gathered from the Normandy during my non-operational period. I became aware of all that happened during that time, but something about it was… strange. The Normandy, being analogous to my body, continued to operate without my integration. And as I reviewed the recorded information, I realized that its relations within my cognizance somewhat resembled… a dream."

At once Shepard moved forward, bringing her arms about EDI's cold frame in a sudden, genuine embrace. So this was how synthetics evolved; instead of over long periods of time and through successive generations of descendants, they evolved within themselves. They did not reproduce to perfect their forms. They modified themselves, change after subtle change until, as proven by EDI, they achieved the chaotic confusion of emotion and dreams even within the orderly rows and columns of electronic thought. And EDI, probably now understanding the flurry of feelings passing through the Commander - wonder, friendship, relief, and joy - returned her hug.

**:::**

Liara labored beneath the glow of lamp that illuminated her entire desk. Aside from Prothean artifiacts, she had also been cataloging new species of flora discovered on the remote planet. She was entranced with the idea that Karin Chakwas had planted in her mind: taking up the new scientific branch of xenobiology. Fortunately, their expedition to this relatively obscure planet had attracted a few scientists who specialized in that field, who were more than glad to have lengthy, intellectual conversations with the legendary Dr. T'Soni. As Glyph whirred beside her, helping organize the data gathered that day, Liara sat back in her chair and allowed her thoughts to consume her.

It would be a while before she saw Shepard again. She missed her some nights, but her job was engaging enough to occupy her mind most of the time. They were both very independent people, but at the same time she still desired her company just as much as she enjoyed working in the field. As her thoughts wandered, she came to the gradual realization in the depths of her heart that she really did wish to have children with her, and probably would within a small number of years. She truly did love her far too much to miss the opportunity of meeting a little child made from pieces of them both affectionately referring to them as _Mother and Father_. That reverie made her heart feel as though it would burst with joy. But either way, Shepard had assured her that even if they ended up never having children together, she would still enjoy their lives immensely. After all, they were now so very distinguished, they were desired in every branch and niche of the galactic community, and they had endless stories to perpetuate through prose (people were trying to convince Shepard to write a book, which was an excellent idea, but the human knew that she would probably need a lot of help as she was not exactly known for having a poetic tongue). Their lives were full, swelling with good things, awful things; and above all, the relief of saying that the worst was over. But sometimes, Liara also carried the fear that the best was over as well. They had seen such great things, such magnificent things that tugged the corners of her lips into a smile whenever she remembered them.

She could recall countless events that provoked her mirthful reaction.

Climbing into the Mako – that horrid death trap of a vehicle – and listening to the hissing clicks of countless seat belts being fastened about their bodies. And then Shepard would check the gauges and monitors, life support systems, energy reserves, and during one of the first times Liara had ever ridden in the Mako, the human had reached back to give her belts a stern tug to assess their security.

"I can handle it, Commander," she had told her with just an iota of aversion, and Shepard immediately turned back around, perhaps flustered by her own impulse to protect the scientist. Liara had never wanted a protector. She was intelligent, capable, and while Shepard's first impression of her was a young woman trapped in an ancient force field due to her own errors, it did not mean that she was erroneous and prone to injury by nature. But she knew the Commander meant well; Liara simply wanted to remind her that she was just as skilled and deadly as anyone else in the crew when she wanted to be. Maybe not as physically durable, but one of the few things she had never been modest about was her biotic talents, specifically her stunning singularity fields.

Then they were off, rolling swift and far across the alien landscape. The vehicle's suspension absorbed most of impact from sudden dips, rocks, and bumps, but nothing could save them from the nausea induced by the Commander's wild weaving whenever they encountered enemies. The inertia dampeners obviously needed to be replaced. Once, Liara recalled climbing out of the Mako to see Kaidan retching some meters away, probably from the unfortunate addition of a developing, pounding migraine.

But this time Garrus was with them, saying, "We got geth coming up on our two, Commander. Let me take them out." He slid the gun's interface over to himself, peering into the display to get a lock on the hostiles. "Get me a little closer, if you can."

"I'm on it," she said, turning the bright hologram wheel while her other hand controlled the throttle.

They roared over the ground toward the geth and Garrus began taking shots. "Hit those fuckers, Commander! _Got one!_"

Liara winced as a geth soldier smashed against the front of the vehicle, screeching in its mechanical dialect as shredded metal flew in all directions. Empathy for the poor creature flooded her heart despite the fact that the mangled geth was one of the many allied with the Reapers; a scream of pain was something that transcended all languages and races, and so she was not immune to the brief pangs of sorrow it brought her. She was no expert on synthetic life. While she was not certain if geth even felt pain as most organics did, the agonized screech was nevertheless a clear indicator of distress, and that was all it took for her inward mourn.

Sprays of gunfire cracked against the Mako's shields, some breaching it and clinking against the thick metal body. Liara had closed her eyes at that point. And then there was an abrupt turn, their bodies lurching to the left, the sound of skidding tires, and a heavy crash. Their belts kept them fastened to their seats, but the energy from the impact stole the breath from their lungs and made it difficult to resume regular breathing patterns for a few long seconds. Above their heads she could hear chunks of rock and piles of dirt raining onto the Mako.

Shepard looked over her shoulder. "Is everyone okay?" she asked immediately, glancing at Garrus, who was tilting his head from side to side to assess any trauma before nodding, and then to Liara, who was still clutching at her chest and breathing hard.

The archaeologist also found Garrus studying her while she gradually caught her breath. She nodded at last, and then, something strange happened. Maybe her brain was still oxygen-deprived, but she found herself smiling. It was a wide grin emerging in her features, an expression of relief and pure, delirious joy. And she starting laughing. It was slow at first, just little undulations in her chest rising up in short, breathy chortling, but soon became outright bursts of laughter. Garrus succumbed to the mirthful contagion and joined her with chuckles on his flanging voice, and after the sheer bewilderment had slowly dissipated from Shepard's eyes, she began to laugh as well, and just as hard. It was without reason – at least, without any reason they could understand – but it simultaneously didn't matter. Here they were, all so gleefully alive, spiting the abyss of death that was growing to become so fond of them all.

"Turn her around, Shepard," Garrus said. "There's still a sniper in one of their flimsy towers. Let's get that bastard."

The Commander retreated from the jagged hole in the mountainside she had created, and was eventually ramming the tower over with the turian's zealous support. Up above, the heavens shimmered with alien hues.

Liara's memories deepened into sights and feelings from the various worlds they had seen. Wondrous planets sometimes haloed by colorful dust rings that spanned the great dome of the sky, tiny planets on which they could chase an everlasting sunset whenever Shepard drove the Mako at full speed toward the last fading lights on the horizon. Hearts filled with the elation and the awe of simply existing so far from home, as little children of the universe exploring the vast and magnificent sandbox they had found themselves in without a clear purpose. Sometimes they forgot their mission, their scars, and their fears whenever they stepped out onto these new worlds; Shepard would guide them along, and they would dutifully follow her. The sunlight would frame her body and Liara would look down at what shape and color the grass was. Sometimes the air would sting on their exposed skin. Sometimes the air smelled strangely sweet, other times foul, and on a few occasions, like exotic spices.

And when they returned to the Normandy, after having eaten, removed their armor, and had their showers, sometimes Shepard would come to visit Liara in her space behind the med bay. The Commander would listen to her rant about Protheans for a few hours while idly rolling around in an office chair, sometimes sliding across the floor to gently crash into her. Liara would often feign annoyance, and Shepard would eventually end up sitting still right beside her, fumbling their fingers together on the desk as the asari continued her long lecture with a deep flush painted across her cheeks. Instances as those marked the first times when Liara started to seriously contemplate melding with the woman; she had thought it about it before when she first realized her attraction to Shepard, but only of the idea in abstract. Now she entertained an instinctive desire within her core whenever she was around, and especially whenever she laced their fingers together and asked questions of honest intrigue about her Prothean studies. She didn't dare speak her lustful thoughts, however. It was much too embarrassing, and what if Shepard didn't feel as though it were appropriate to pursue physical intimacy, especially in light of all that was currently transpiring? Liara had decided that it could wait, instead delightfully tormenting herself by continuing to gaze too deeply into eyes that regarded her with such genuine adoration, shivering when their fingertips pressed together, and trying not to squirm when Shepard laid her head upon her shoulder.

Liara once brought Shepard's hand to her lips, ardently kissing the back of her knuckles. The action rendered the human speechless, such an uncharacteristic state for a person so charismatic and bold. Deft hands would wander across her shoulders, the back of her neck, so innocent on the surface yet brewing with erotic reveries as her fingers slipped into the shallow grooves at the back of her head. And Liara's hand would be at Shepard's neck, digits reaching up to weave into her hair. They burned. Everything burned with anticipation and tentative desire. There was a point when the gentle touches became bolder, and another when the caress of the neck became a precursor of gentle, phantasmal kisses whose warmth could linger on her lips for days. And as the intimacy gradually evolved, Liara found whispers against the side of her head. Promises of libidinous actions that made her shut her eyes and blush. The sheer ecstasy of sharing a hearth of sensual passion with another person brought her mind to dizzying heights, and she always found her lips on Shepard's again as a result of that blissful delirium. But they always resumed that same position by the end of their exploratory, prurient episodes; chairs pressed together, bodies propped up by the other's, and a tangled mess of forearms and hands.

There were times when they'd fall asleep like that – resting against each other with their fingers laced together on the desk – and Liara would dream of the day's events; running through fields of grass that had never been treaded through before, sailing over the stars of their little enclosed domain amidst the wide expanse of the universe, and somehow feeling quite powerful and of tremendous consequence when they raised their arms above their heads – silly young men and women reveling in the warm rays of sunlight glancing off their bodies as if they were all miniature gods. There they felt the forces that moved them, the glory of circumstance which brought their molecules together in harmony, and into a song sung differently by all sentient creatures but bearing nearly identical lyrics across their various tongues:

_I am alive._

**:::**

End

* * *

**A/N:** I feel that it's appropriate to stop at this point, as I'm rather uncomfortable with taking even more liberties than I already have, so I'm going to leave this open-ended.

Thanks to everyone for reading! I may write more FemShep/Liara in the future, but right now I'm working on "Confidentiality"; it's about Aria T'Loak and Councilor Tevos with plenty of politics, schemes, and scandals, of course. So if you think you'd be interested in that sort of thing, it's ongoing.


End file.
